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AN
ENGLISH LESSON BOOK,
roA
THE JUNIOR CLASSES.
i
Recently Published.
MISS AIKIN'S POETRY FOR CHILD
T AN EARLY AGE. A new Edition, revise*
nproved throughout by the Authoress, pric
ilf-bound.
Also by Dr. AIKIN.
MORAL BIOGRAPHY; or Lives of Ex<
ry Men : for the Instruction of Youth. In 18i
^ 3s. 6d. half-bound.
ited for Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, and Grc
AN
i
ENGLISH LESSON BOOK,
I-OR
THE JUNIOR CLASSES.
Br LUCY AIKIN.
LONDON:
FBINTED FOE
LONGMAN^ BEES, OBHE, BBOWN, AND GREEN,
FATEBNOSTEB ROW.
PREFACE.
The casual remark of a friend long ex-
perienced in the business of education^ that
a want was felt in schools of some set of
lessons proper to succeed the spelling-
books, first drew the attention of the author
to the object of the following work.
It appeared to her almost self-evident,
that for the use of pupils of that tender
age, pieces written expressly must possess
many advantages over the most judicious
selections from the works of standard wri-
ters, who composed without the purpose of
adapting either their style or their reflec-
tions to the capacity of childhood. Her
own portfolio contained a considerable store
of such pieces^ which had been designed as
a2
terest.
To revise these sketches, and to adt
)ir number, has proved a welcome oc
Hon and amusement to herself, dui
state of indisposition which preclu<
steady application to severer stud:
)uld it also be found on trial adaptec
purpose of supplying an useful £
eeable exercise in the art of reading,
younger classes of learners, the sat
ion of its Author will be complete.
CONTENTS.
page
The Honest Swiss 1
The Coral Island . ; 3
The Dog doing his Duty 8
The Lion at the Cottage Door .... 1 1
The King and the Snake 14
Why must we learn by Heart? ... 17
Truth above all Things ....:. 20
The pet Antelope 23
Lokman 26
Tlie King of Egypt and his Treasure-house 30
The King of Egypt and his Conqueror . 37
The Pearl of Price 43
Alp Arslan 54
The generous Rivals 58
The Magpie in the Gooseberry-bush . 62
The Islanders 67
The ancient Britons and Boadicea • . 74
London 82
The Burner and the Planter .... 90
1 ne gratetui, ana me more grateful
The Sloth
The Western Wilderness . . ,
Charles the Bold
Inference-making
(Vlan and his Servants ....
Dog and Man
The Cuckoo and the Magpie . .
Barneveldt ,
Qrotius • 1 .
Mem and Birds ^
Plants ....
• • • • • .
AN
ENGLISH LESSON BOOK.
THE HONEST SWISS.
Switzerland is a small country ly^
ing amongst those high mquntains
called the Alps, between France and
Italy
It is divided into a number of little
separate states called Cantons, which
are all united together by a league, or
agreement, to defend each other against
the attacks of foreign enemies.
They have no king, and no great
lords nor very, rich men among them ;
but if none of them are very rich or
great, few of them are miserably poof ;
but each cultivates his own little farmi
2 THE HONEST SM'ISS.
and lives contentedly, though frugally,
on the fruits of it ; and they are frank^
and honest, and kind-hearted ; and
neighbours, being all nearly equals,
agree together, and love and help one
another like brothers.
In this country there lived, a great
many years ago, two honest men
whose lands lay near together ; but be
tween them there was a small field to
which both of them laid claim, and
the question was, who had the best
right to it. Each of them plainly and
fairly told his neighbour his reason3
for thinking it ought to belong to him;
but it was a puzzling matter ; and as
they could not settle it between them-
selves, they agreed to go before the
judge at a certain time, and ask him
to decide it for them.
On the appointed day, one of them
came to his neighbour, as he waa
THE CORAL ISLAND. 3
working in his field; "Well ! " he said,
" I am on my way to the judge, are
you ready, that we may go together?"
" It is very inconvenient for me to
go today, neighbour," answered the
rOther^ " I am busy with my hay. You
know all that I have to say on my side,
and I am sure you will tell it to the
judge as fully and fairly as what you
have to say on your own side ; do you
go and speak for us both." The other
consented, and when he returned in
the evening, " Neighbour," he said,
" I told the judge all our reasons on
'both sides ; he has decided for you ;
the field is yours, and I give you joy
of it.^
THE CORAL ISLAND.
A TALL ship from Europe crossing
the Indian ocean to China or New
4 THE CORAL ISLAND.
Holland, will sometimes strike sud*
denly upon a sunken rock, that is, a
rock which does not rise to sight ahove
the water, in a place where a few years
before no rock was to be found. What
are these new rocks do you suppose,
or how are they produced? Wonder-
ful to tell ! they are tfie ' itork of in-
sects, formed by them out of matter
collected in their own bodies, in the
same manner as the spider forms its
web, or the bee its comb, or the snail
its shell. But the coral insects are
moreextraordinary creatures thto these.
They are of a great variety of shapes
and sizes; the commonest is in the
form of a star, with arms, or feelers,
from four to six inches long, which it
moves nimbly around in search of food.
Others are sluggish creatures of the
size and shape of a finger, and of a
dark colour. Some are as fine as a
THE CORAL ISLAND. 5
thinead/ and several feet long, some*
tiih€» blue and sometimes yellow ;
others look like snails, others like very
little lobsters. When they have built
up any part of their sea-castle so high
that it rises above the water at low
tide, it appears, when dry, to be a firm
and solid rock, very hard and rough ;
but as soon as ever the tide rises again,
and the waves begin to wash over it,
the insects are seen thrusting out their
bodies from thousands of Httle holes
which were before invisible, and in a
short time the whole rock appears to
be alive with their countless multi-
tudes. And so the rock goes on, rising
taller and taller in a shape like a cauli-
flower, till the water cannot reach its
top even at high tide. Then they cant
build it up no further, for they must
be within reach of the water to get
their food ; and when the insects die,
b2
6 THE CORAL ISLAND.
it becomes a bare, dead rock, with
neither plant nor any living thing
upon it.
; But presently the sea, in some great
tempest, will throw over it some sea*
weedsi and sand, and bones, and dead
fishes, and perhaps the wreck of some
lost ship which its waters have over-
whelmed, and some fruits and berries
and seeds will be mixed in the heap.
All these thinga decaying together,
will make a thin covering, of mould,
in which some of the seeds will spring
up. Then a cocoa-nut will float to it
from some neighbouring shore, and it
will take root, and thrive and multiply,
for this plant loyes to grow in reach
9f salt water. When the cocoa-palms
begin to wave their heads invitingly,
birds will stretch their wings thither.
The parrot and the dove will perch
there, and within their bodies they will
THE CORAL ISLAND. 7
convey the seeds of other plants on
which they feed, and when these spring
up, doves and parrots will build their
nests and nuike it their dweUingi Sea-
birds will come there too, and lay their
eggs, and insects will be wafted thither
by tempestuous winds, and insect-
eating birds will follow them; and
thus it will become a little green islet,
all alive and gay with beautiful winged
creatures; but no beast can set his
fi)ot upon it, and even man should be
happen to discover it, will not take
possession, for one thing it wants —
a fountain of fresh water.
A little rain will lodge in the hollows
of the rock, enough for the birds, but
men and cattle must have a running
spring.
THE DOG DOING HIS DUTY.
■i
r
Dr. Isaac Barrow, bom in the reign
t>f King Charles the First, was one of
the greatest scholars in England
He was a very great mathematician
and divine, and was well acquainted
with many other kinds of learning, and,
what was better still, he was just and
true ; kind and charitable ; and so up-
right that nothing in the wbrld could
tempt him to do anything which he
thought ever so little wrong.
It is said indeed, that at his first
school he neglected his learning very
much, and was chiefly remarkable for
a love of fighting ; but on being re^
moved to another school he amended
his manners, and by diligence soon
brought himself so forward in his stu-
dies^ that his master made him a kind
of tutor to a young nobleman who was
\
THE DOG DOING HIS DUTY. 9
one of his pupils. As for his love of
fighting, though he was all his life re-
markable for courage, he learned so
to govern himself as never to show it
but on proper occasions. When a
young man, he travelled to France and
Italy, and then sailed up the Medi-
terranean sea to Smyrna, and after-
wards to Constantinople. On his voy-
age they were attacked by an Algerine
corsair, or sea-robber, who, if he could
have taken the ship, would have car-
ried away all the crew and passengers
and sold them for slaves. But Barrow,
though a clergyman, stood manfully
to his guTi, and assisted the sailors in
beating off this barbarous enemy.
Another story is told of him which is
still more to his honour. He had been
to visit a friend, and slept at his house.
In the morning, wishing to set out
upon his return very early, he rose
wnen a great dog, kept as; a g
taking him for a robber, flew upoi
and tried to seize him by the tl
Barrow struggled hard with the
and at length succeeded in gettinj
down, and holding him so tha
could do him no harm. But he (
not let the dog go, because he m
have flown upon him again ; ai
last he grew so weary of holding
that he began to study for some n
of getting rid of him. He recolh
Ihat he had a sharp knife in
pocket, and at first he was temptc
.1
THE WON AT THE COTTAGE DOOR. 1 1
the dog, he is doing his duty, and it
would be a crime in me to kill him.'f
And. he patiently continued keeping
down the animal, tired and worn as
he was, till the servants at length got
up and came to his assistance.
THE UON AT THE COTTAGE DOOR.
EvEftY part of the great continent of
Africa lies scorching under the beams
of a sultry sun. It has few ranges
of lofty mountains for the snow and
clouds to rest upon, and few great
rivers, for these generally rise among
the mountains. Nor is the land shaded
in many places with thick forests ; but
it abounds in sandy deserts, and in
wide open plains, where vast herds of
the different kinds of antelope, and
other herbivorous, or plant-eating ani- ^
12 THE LIOK AT THE COTTAGE DOOR.
mals, pttze on the scanty herbage or
browze among the prickly bushes ; '
roaming along continually from one
side of the country to another in search
of fresh pasture, or of springs or stand-
tkg pools to slake their thirst. In dll
iheir removals, these herds are followed
by troops of savage beasts of different
tribes which, rushing in among them,
carry off numbers for their prey ; the
terrible lion abounds through all the
land.
The dwellings of man are thinly
scattered among these burning wil-
dernesses, which are scarcely fitted for
his abode ; aiid the lion, who would
fly from towns and cities, is often bold
enough, when pressed by hunger, to
enter the straggling villages, and prowl
about the farm-yards and cottages.
He will then devour not only, the
catde, but the women and children,
tHE LION AT THE COTTAG£ DOOR. 13
and the men too if he finds them off
i^ ' their guard ; and this, not only in the
dusk or the darkness, but sometimes
even at noon day.
. It was in the southern part of Africa,
.a considerable distance up the coun-
^ ity from the Cape of Good Hope, that
ft European settler met with the fol-
lowing adventure. He was returning
home in the middle of the day from
his labour in the fields, when, on ap-
proaching his cottage, he heard a cry
of terror. Hastening onwards, he be-
held an enormous lion crouching on
the very threshold, and gently rocking
his body from side to side, just in the
lUtitude of a cat before she makes her
spring at a mouse or a sparrow. The
door was open, and he could see his
wife sitting within, still and mute with
dread, and all the little children hud
died together in a heap and hiding
iiuocii, ue ran rounci to the bac
le house, where he knew he had
loaded gun standing at ail o
indow. He seized it, and poini
just above the head of his hig^
)y, fired with so true an aim, t
e ball struck the lion in the v
iddle of the forehead, and killed 1
an instant
THE KING AND THE SNAKE.
fC£ upon a time, says an anci<
1 •» •••
THE KlITO AND THE SNAKB. 15
psdace, and proclamation to be made,
that any one who had received nm in*-
jnry should come and ring the bell,
and that then the king would heai^ his
complaint and do him justice^ The bell
one day was heard to ring ; and certain
officers wenty as usual, td bring the
ringer to the king ; but lo ! no man was
there ; and th^ wondered greatly, for
the bell still continued to ring. At
last they espied a snake which had
twisted herself around the rope, and
they saw that it was she who rang
the bclL Then she untwisted herself
from the rope and glided away upon
the ground, and they followed her;
and she went to a hole under the wall
in which she had her nest and her
little ones ; but a hedgehog had crept
into it, and he stuck up his thorny
back, and would not let her enter ;
therefore she had rung the bell to
16 THE KINO AND THK SNAKE.
call for justice upon hioL Then the
officers went and told the king; and he
commanded the hedgehog to be drag-
ged forth, and thus the snake gained
possession of her own hole again.
Not long afterwards, this just king
was stricken stone blind, and none of
his physicians could help him; but
one day as he lay upon his couch sad
and sorrowful, a snake was seen to
creep forth out of a hole. And she
glided along to the side of the couch,
and climbed up; and in her mouth
she bore a precious stone which had
a virtue in it ; and she laid it upon the
eyelids of the king, first on one, then on
the other ; and immediately the king
recovered his sight again as wdl as
ever. And this was his reward, because
he was not proud nor pitiless, but had
listened to die cry of the poor and the
helpless, when they called for justice.
17
"WHY MUST WE LEARN BY HEART?
** Pray, papa, may I ask you a ques-
tion 1"-^" Certainly; for if I should
not think propTer to answer it, I shall
tell you so." — " I wish to know, papa,
why I must get things by heart which
lean find in my books wheneyer I want
them ? I do not mean poetry, for I like
learning that yery much ; but other
things, which are stupid and tiresome."
^-^" Such things, I suppose, as the
multiplication table and pence table,
and columns of spelling ?" — " Yes,
papa, those are the things I mean ; and
Latin grammar, and names of coun-
tries and chief towns. Surely I might
as well look for them when I want
them." — ^** You might do so, no doubt;
but whether you might as well do so,
is quite another question, which we
will talk over by and by : now, if you
c2
Aft
»f attending to what he is doing
he people and things before his
las the foolish habit of lettin
houghts run upon something eh
hat he does not know where he
rhat he is about, but goes on
oan in a dream, neglecting am
;etting, and making all sorts of
iers,
*^ A gentleman of this turn, s(
ne evening, with two or three
anions, to walk from a friend's h
'here he had been paying a vis
%e*
^%««W« J>«»«««M<« ^1p».»*«-A ..^ aa^-l^ -Xl
WHY ifUST WE LEARN BY HEART? 19
was* the.inalter. ^I have forgot my
sticky said lie, and he turned back to
fetch' k. ' After he had walked on a
good way the second time, he fonnd
himself very cold; ^ Bless me/ cried
he, * where is my great coat?' Left
behind i and he had to return again.
^ Welly'* said one of his companions,
* I hope you are warmer now ! ' * Yesi
excepting my hands, but they are quite
numbed — I declare — I have left my
gloves!' Another journey back for
them. This time, he was quite sure
he had got every thing he wanted, and
he had nearly reached his home when,
at a narrow turn of the road where it
was quite dark, he knocked his nose
against a post. ^ How stupid ! ' cried
he^ * I quite forgot my lantern."*
^^ What a strange man, papa ! he
must have wasted half his time in
going back for things which he had
20 TRUIH ABOVE ALL. THINGS. >
•left behind."^ — " Yes ; and what would
A school-boy do, wliav instead of having
ready in his head the things which he
wants to do his lessons withy should
be obliged to stop continually to look
&r them in his grammar, or hifil book of
arithmetic, or his spelling dictibnary?"
: — " He would lose his time too : I see
it now, papa ; we must learn by heart
to save ourselves trouble."^ — "You are
right, it is much the shorter way."
TRUTH ABOVE ALL THINGS.
V. Truth is the highest thing that man can
keep,"
says our good old English poet Geoffry
Chaucer ; and in all times and places
there have been some excellent people
who have shown that they were re-
solved to keep it whatever it might
cost them.
TRUTH ABOVE ALL THINGS. 21
Abdool-Radir, a Persian boy, the
son of a widow, desired leave of his
mother to take a journey to Bagdat
to seek his fortune ; she wept at the
thoughts of the parting ; then, taking
out forty of the gold coins called
dinars^ she gave them to him, telling
him that was the whole of his inhe-
ritance. After this, she made him
swear never to tell a lie; then she
^ bade him farewell.
The boy set out upon his journey.
U.;i3n the roadi the party with which
''-' %to ttftvidted waft suddenly attacked
by a great troop of robbers. One of
them asked Abdool-Radir what money
he had got " Forty dinars/' he
answered, " are sewed up in my gar-
ments." The robber took this for a
jest, and laughed. Another asked him
the same question, and he mad^ the
same reply. When they began to di-
IS2 TRUTH ABOVE ALL THINGS.
Ivide the plunder among them, h^was
Icalled to the chief, who was standing
Ion an eminence, and he too asked him
■what he had got. ". I have told two
lof your men already," said he, " that
ll have forty dinars, carefully sewed
lup in my clothes." The chief imme-
Idiately ordered the clothes to be ripped
■up, and the gold was found. He was
lastonished. " How came you," said
' to discover what had been so
karefully
THE PET ANTELOPE. 23
And ;he. swore it ; and his followers^
all struck like him with sudden repent
tance, made the same vow ; and as the
first fruits of it, returned to the tnt-^
vellers whatever they had taken from
thRTOm .
THE PET ANTELOPE.
When the famous Buonaparte aftei^
oveironning Egypt had marched his
army into Syria to attack the pasha,
or governor of that country, his camp
became a kind of fair, or market, to
which the country people flocked in,
to exchange such provision as they
were able to supply to the soldiers, for
money, or for various kinds of goods
and trinkets which the French had
brought with them« Among the rest,
some young girls had gone to the camp
with poultry, or fruit, or vegetables
in particular, who on seeing th<
ornaments was seized with a
longing to possess some of th
kind ; — ^but what should she d
had neither fruit nor poultry t
to the market, the only thing t
of her own in the world was
tame antelope. It was the ]
creature in the world ; so nir
slender, so frolicsome; and
knew her so well, that it won
whenever she called it, eat le
of her hand, and rub itself aga
inviting: her to pat its head a
THE PET ANTELOPE. 25
the Deads were so beautiful, and all
the girls had got them ! In short, she
was tempted ; and she took her little
pet antelope in her anns and carried
it to the camp to sell it. An officer
bought it very readily, and gave her
in return a necklace and bracelets like
those of her companions. She could
not say much to him, because she did
not understand his language, nor he
hers ; but she had no doubt he Would
love the pretty creature, and make a
favourite of it, as she had done ; so,
with a kiss and a sigh, she left it be-
hind.
But when she got home, her heart
smote her for what she had done;
and, in the morning, when no pretty
fuatelope came skipping forth to meet
^htitf she could not bear it ; so away
she ran to the camp again to see it,
and to beg to have it back. The offi-
— .««r •• V\^A4I> y CUM I»fl<
^ poor littb antelope hangi
killed and ready to be roastiec
it W9S certainly her own, for tl
of riband were still in its ears,
burst into a flood of tears, and
ping off the worthless beads
had cost her innocent little fa^
liis life, she threw them scomfv
Jie ground, and hurried home
vhelmed with shame and grief.
LOKMAN.
LOKMAN. i7
East as the inventor of many fables
and parables ; and various ivories are
told of his wisdom. It is' said, that
he was a native of Ethiopia, and either
a tailor, a carpenter, or a shepherd,
and that aftenvards he was a slave in
various countries, and was at lai^t sold
among the Israelites.
One day, as he was seated in the
toidst of a company who were all list-
ening to him with great respect and
attention, a Jew of high rank, looking
earnestly at him, asked him, whether
he was not the same man whom he
had seen keeping the sheep of one of
his neighbours. Lokman said he was.
" And how," said the other, " did you,
a poor slave, come to be so famous as
a wise man?" — " By exactly observing
these three rules," replied Lokman;
"Always speak the truth without dis-
guise, strictly keep your promises,
»A«C
uiiuuy wno will believe i
but what they hold in their \
meaning, that he always exi
things, and took great pains t
out the truth.
Beinof once sent with some
slaves to fetch fruit, his comps
ate a great deal of it, and then i
i¥as he who had eaten it ; on ^
le drank warm water to make h;
ieky and thus proved that he hi
ruit in hi« stomach; atfd the
laves, being obliged to do the I
^ere found out.
XOKMAK. 29
yp without making faces or showing
the lea^ dislike. Hi& master, quite
surprised, said, " How was it possible
for you to swallow so nauseous a fruit?"
Lokman replied; " I have received
so many sweets from you, that it is tibt
wonderful that I should have swal-
lowed the only bitter fruit you ever
gave me." His master was so much
struck by this generous and grateful
answer, that he immediately rewarded
him by giving him his liberty.
> At this day, Ho teach Lokman' is a
common saying in the East to express
a thing impossible : it is said too that
he was as good as he was wise ; and
indeed it is the chief part of wisdom
to be good. He was particularly re-
markable for his love to God and his
reverence of his holy name. He is
reported to have lived to a good old
age; and many centuries after, a tomb
d2
THE KING OF EGYPT
1 the little town of Ramlah, not far
l-om Jerusalem, was pointed out as
Lokman's.
KING OF EGYPT AND HIS
TREASURE-HOUSE.
t'ou have all heard of the land of
Egypt; that long narrow country, with
■s famous river Nile flowing through
Idst of it from end to end, which
AND HIS TR£ASURE-HOUS£. 31
are almost solid masses of brick or
stone, having only, a few small dark
chambers, and low narrow passages
within them ; and they seem to: have
been raised as tombs, or monuments
for the dead. Their founders must
have been great kings, who could em-
ploy thousands of labourers and heaps
of treasure in the work ; and probably
they thought to make their names fa*
mous to all times by these amazing
buildings, which stand now, after so
many ageis, as firm, and almost as fresh, «
as when they were first reared.
But the pride t>f man is foolishness
and a vain dream ; the pyramids stand
indeed, and. may stand as loAg as the
world lasts ; but the names of their
founders are either all lost and forgot
ten, or if there be a dim and ^doubtful
memory left of some of them, it is only
a bare name which nobody cares for..
32 THE KING OF EGYI'T
• There are many other wonderful
works of skill and labour in Egypt.
Palaces of princes, with endless ranges
of magnificent apartments, all painted
within with figures the colours of which
lire still fresh ; and vast temples built
of stone, supported on many rows of
massy pillars, with the walls covered
over with curious carvings of men,
and beasts, and birds, and other ob-
jects ; which was a kind of writing
used among them ; but no one now
can understand it. Around the tem-
ples also are many gigantic statues
curiously wrought ; some of men, some
of monsters ; especially of one kind
called the sphinx, which has the body
of a lion with the head of a woman.
But all these mighty piles lie now
useless and ruined, and some of them
half buried in the sands of the desert.
The palaces are desolate ; and no one
AND HIS TH£ASUR£-HOUS£. 33.
goes up to worship in the ancient
temples ; even the gods to whom they
were dedicated are forgotten among
the people. They serve now no other
purpose than to draw the wonder of
travellers, and to keep in memory the
strange tales told in ancient books of
the Egyptian princes of the days of
old. One of these tales is the fol-
lowing.
King Rhampsinites was possessed
of a greater store of gold and silver
than any Egyptian king before him ;
and being more disposed to hoard up
his money than to spend it, he deter-
mined to build a strong treasure-house
in which to keep it safely. Accord-
ingly he caused his master-mason to
contrive him one which seemed quite
secure ; the walls were of thick stone,
and there was but one door, which
the king himself fastened up whenever *
I
34 THE KING OF EGYPT
lie came out, and sealed with his own
seal.
But this master-mason was a great
rogue, and he contrived to leave one
of the stones in the wall loose^ so that
he could take it out when he pleased,
and get in to steal the treasure. He
was seized with a deadly sickness
himself soon after he had finished the
building; but when he found his end
0raw near, he called his two sons and
told them the secret of the loose stone,
by which they might make themselves
rich when they pleased. Very soon
the king, who often went to count his
Measure, discovered that some was
ipissing; yet the seal remained un-
broken on the door, and he could not
imagine how it should happen. After-
wards he missed more and morcf of
his beloved gold, for the two brothers
repeated their robberies night after
AND HIS TREASURE-HOUSE. 35
night. At last he caused some curious
snares to be made, and set them round
his treasure-chests to catch the thieves.
That very night one of the brothers
was taken in them ; and finding it im^
possible to get loose, " Brother," said
he, ^^ there is but one thing to be done
to save my honour and your life. I
entreat and implore you to cut off my
head and carry it away with you, that
the culprit may not be known." The
brother very reluctantly did as he ad-
vised. ThiB next morning, great was
the surprise and horror of the king>
on coming to examine, to find the place
all bloody and a headless thief caught
in the snare. On recovering himself,
he ordered the body to be hung up on
the outside of the wall, and guards to
vratch it, who were to examine the
countenances of all who came; and
if ady one showed signs of mournings
snould be embalmed with d
spices to preserve them, and
fully in the tomb. Accord
mother of the young man, in
of grief, declared to her othei
if he did not contrive to bri
bis brother's body, she woul
to the king. The cunning
pacify her disguised himself, i
ing an ass with skins of win<
is in bags of skin that manj/
keep their wine to this day —
AND HIS CONaU£ROR. 37
every way he could think of to dis-
cover the offender ; but when he found
all in vain, admiring the cleverness of
the man, he promised him pardon and
reward if he would confess, a^d in the
end made him a great lord and maiy
ried him to his daugrhter.
THE KING OF EGYPT AND HIS
CONQUEROR.
After the kiqgs of Egjrpt had gone
on. reigning for many ages in riches
and prosperity, one of them named
Amasis was so unfortunate as to give
offence to Cambyses ki©g of Persia^
a very powerful priiOjce and of a very
cruel and furious disposition. Accordr
ingly Caxnbfsest raised a great axmy
and marched to Egypt to revengt^
himself on Amasis ; and though thi$
king was dead, when he amyed^ h^
E
38 THE KING OF EGYPT
-would not be pacified, but made war
on his son Psammenitus who succeeded
him. He took the town of Pelusium
which stands on the borders of Syria,
and was called the key of Egypt, and
after defeating the Egyptians in a great
battle he made himself master of
Memphis, the chief city, and«took king
Psammenitus and all his great cap-
tains prisoners.
Cambyses was particularly enraged
with the Egyptians for barbarously
putting to death a messenger of his,
and all his ship's crew, and he de-
termined on a striking act of ven-
geance. Accordingly, having caused
the unfortunate king with some of his
chief men to be brought to a spot
without the gates of 'Memphis, he
there showed him the princess his
daughter, in the dress of a poor slave
coming with a j^her on her head to
AND HIS CONQUEROR. 39
draw water from the river, and fol-
lowed by a train of ladies, daughters
of the greatest families in Egypt^ all
in the same miserable garb, bearing
pitchers also, and filling the air as they
pa33ed with sighs and lamentations.
The Eg3rptian nobles, on viewing this
piteous sight, all broke into tears and
groans, loudly lamenting the misery
of their daughters; Psammenitus alone
neither shed a tear nor uttered a com-
plaint, but cast his eyes on the ground
and remained silent and still. After
the maidens came a train of youths
with the king's only son at their head,
all with bits in their mouths and hal-
ters round their necks, about to be led
to execution in revenge for the deaths
of the Persian messenger and his crew.
Again the Egyptian lords burst forth
into clamorous grief, while Psamme-
nitus sat like one without sense or
40 THE KING OF EGYPT
feeling. But soon after^ observing a
courtier who had long been his con-
stant companion and intimate friend,
who tiow, stripped and plundered of
"all that he possessed, was begging his
bread from door to door, he also at
length burst into tears, and calling on
his friend by name, struck himself on
the heaid like one distracted,
Cambyses, who had spies set upon
^he captive king to inform him of all
his behaviour, on hearing these cir-
cumstances sent a messenger to him
' to inquire, what might be the cause of
this violent grief in one who had borne
the calamities of his own family with
so much composure. Psammenitus
replied, that his distress for the fate of
his own family was too deep to be ex-
pressed by tears or any outward signs,
it stunned and stupified him ; but the
-affliction of his bosom friend was such
AND HIS CONQUEROR, 41
sls he was able to thiuk upon, and for
that it was in his power to weep and
to express his grief. Even the hard
heart of Cambyses was moved by this
sad answer; and he sent orders to
spare the young prince of Eg3rpt j but
it was too late, he had been put to
death already. Then he gave the un-
happy king his liberty, and seemed
Inclined to let him rule the country as
his lieutenant ; but soon after, suspect-
ing him of some plot against him^ he
put him to death.
As for Cambyses, he next marched
his army to the south, to conquer Ethi-
opia; but he had neglected to make
stores of provision beforehand, and they
could find no food by the way ; and
first they killed their beasts of burden
and ate them ; then they were driven
to devour all the green herbs they could
find ; last of all, shocking to tell ! they
e2
42 THE KING OF EGYPT
slew every tenth man, and his comrades
fed npon his flesh. And then at length
Cambyses, mad and obstinate as he
was, fearing for himself, gave orders
to march back again.
Another army he had sent to th^
Eastward to make conquests, but of
this not a man returned again. What
became of it was never known ; but in
those deserts sometimes a violent wind
arises, and sweeps up the sand with
it in such prodigious quatititiei^, that it
overwhelms men and horses and camels,
and buries them alive ; and by this
dreadful fate the army of Cambyses
' is believed to have perished.
After this, the king was told that his
own countrymen the Persians had re-
* belled against him and set up a new
; lung, who pretended to be prince Smer-
dis his brother; but Cambyses knew
too well that he had murdered his bro-
THE PEARL OF PRICE. 43
ther, so that this man was an impostor.
H€ resolved to return to Persia directly
to fight the usurper ; but> in mounting
his horse, he happened to wound him-
self in the thigh with his- own sword^
and died.
Sdch was the end of this wicked
and foolish conqueror, after all the
•dreadful mischiefs he had brought
upon his own subjects and upon the
^unfortunate Egyptians whom he had
1^0 cruelly insulted and oppressed.
THE PEARL OF PRICE.
r
AN EASTERN TALE.
In the days of old a wildgoose made
her nest on the margin of the Caspian
Sea, among the sedges, underneath a
' shelving bank. And she brooded cer-
tain days over her eggs, and many
44 THE PEARL OF PRICE.
.young ones came forth. But behold
there arose a mighty tempest, and the
waves were lifted up, and dashed upon
the bank, and it crumbled and fell down
upon the nest, so that her mate was
crushed to death, and all the young,
saving one, which dived under the
waters and escaped away, and in like
manner the mother bird escaped also.
And the mother loved the young
one, that was left to her a widow, with
exceeding love : and she fed him, and
watched him day and night ; and he
was now well nigh fledged. But the
fowler spread his net, cunningly he
spread it, and the young bird was taken
and fell into the hands of the fowler.
>Ajid the mother bird followed, and cried
to the fowler to have pity, and mercy
upon her which had but one young
pne, and to spare and set him free.
And the fowler answered and said,
THE PEARL OF PRICE. 45
u
Why should I set him free fov thee?
Wliat gift wilt thou give ipe> if Lset
liim free ? " And the bird made rqply,
^^ Behold, I would give my life for his
ransom, say what is it that thoawouldst
have of me." And the fowler said^
*' Stretch thy wing to th6>S9iath, and
after many days thou wilt behold the
city wh^re dwelleth the great king,
^ven the king of Persia. And thou
wilt see him go forth in the morning,
and call to him his beautiful steed that
he loveth, and give him barley out of
a golden dish. In all the world there
is m barley like unto that for goodness,
bring me one grain thereof in thy bill,
that I may sow it, and it may bring
forth abundantly ; then will I restore
•unto thee thy young one.'*
And the bird stretched her wing to
the South many days, and at la^t she
stood before the Great King, even the
46 THE PEARL OF PRICE.
king of Persia, when he went forth
with barley in a golden dish ; and she
besought him that he would give her
one barley-corn to redeem her young
one from the death. But the great
king frowned terribly, and he said,
** What gift hast thou brought? Darest
thoir advance thy prayer unto the king
without bringing with thee thy gift ?
Stretch now thy wing towards the
getting sun, and after many days thou
shalt behold the orchards of the West ;
bring to Qie in thy bill the fairest
pomegranate of all those orchards,
then will I give thee a barley-corn to
iredeem thy young one."
And the bird stretched her wing Uy-
ward the setting sun, and behold the
planter was walking in his orchard,
and she said, ^' Give me the fairest
pomegranate of thy orchard to give
to the Great King, so shall he give unto
THE PEARL OF PRICE. 47
jne the barley-corn to give unto th^
fowler to redeem my young one from
the death." But he answered, " Bring
me a gift. Seek thou the herdsmafi
of the plain, bid him bring hither unto
me an ox, to turn the wheel of the
cistern which watereth my orchard,
then will I give unto thee my fairest
pom^ranate." And she sought oiit
the herdsman, the master of an hun^
dred herds, and she entreated him to
be merciful unto her, and to give the
ox to the gardener. But he answered
even as the rest, " Bring me a gift
Go thou to the chief who dwelleth on
the borders of the desert, let him send
unto me one of his steeds of noble
blood, and let him be bridled and sad'^
died for the course, — ^then shall the ox
be thine."
.And the bird went, and besought
the chief who dwelt on the borders of
4
48 THE PEARL OF PRICE.
the des^t to bestow upon her one of
his steeds of noble blood, bridled and
saddled for the course. But he mocked
at her, and he said, ^^ Give thou first
unto me the Pearl of Price to adomithe
forehead of my bride, even the pearl
of the princess Zobeid, the greatest
pearl of the whole earth." The poor
bird answered and said, ^^ Alas.! as
easily^ might I give thee the earthJt-
self ! ** But it was for the life of her
young one, and there was no other
help for him, and nothing had shiB to
lose; she spread therefore her ivings
and away to the dwelling of the jprin*
cess Zobeid. And the princess was
in a • fair garden adorned with great
trees and with bushes, and with all
sweet smelling flowers ; and she was
sitting beside a fountain of clear water j
ail^ she' held her young son in lier
annsit And she said, '' What aileth
THE PEARL OF PRICE. 49
thee, poor bird ; why droopest thou thy
wings, and wherefore bowest' thou thy
head unto the earth ? Rest thyself on
the fresh herbage and drink of the
ibotttedn of dear water; afterwards tell
unto me- thy grief." And the bird did
as sh^ had said^ and she told her her
grief. And the princess answered ' and
said^ ** Didst thoii all this; poor crea*-
ture ! Aiid stretchedst thou thy wings
hither^ even from the Caspian Sea^ oh
the fiirther side of all the land of
Persia, only to seek for pity and for
help, for thee and for thy Utile one,
tmd foundest nothing in the heart of
ttito, from high to low, from the Great
Kling to the humble peasant, but cru-
eliy and covetousness ! But I, that
am a mother, even as thyself, of dti
only deair little one, shall I not pity
thee? \ Take my pearl,— a pea^l of
price is light as a barley-corb weighed
And the bird took the pea
billy rejoicing that she had i
vour at the last. And she
on her way, and sought out 1
of the borders of the desert,
said unto him, ** Behold the
Price, even the great pearl of
cess Zobeid, give now unto th
man thy steed of noble bloc
bridled and saddled, that he i
me his ox, and so I may red
young one." Then the chief
THE PEARL OF PRICE. 51
9A thine entreaty ! " The bird answered
him never a word* She spread her
wings, and soared up over the plain,
seeking far and near to find the master
of an hundred herds. But behold the
robbers had come down from the moun^
tains,^ and they had seized upon the
herdsman, and bound him, and carried
him away into captivity, him and all
his household ; and his herds and his
flocks they had driven away, and over
the whole plain there was nought but
loneliness and the stillness of deaths
" The Pearl of Price is not for the
herdsman" (so said the bird in the
Au^ings of her heart); ^^ behold I will
deliver it unto the planter, so shall he
yield unto me the fairest pomegranate
of his orchard. And she went: but
lo, the earthquake had been there, and
the earth had opened and swallowed
up that orchard, with its trees, and its
" Let then the Pearl of Pi
the Ghreat King, in exchan^
barley-corn to redeem the '.
dear unto me.'' But woe
proud who are hard of hear
mighty who know not mercy
greater and more powerful
hath come up against him
routed his hosts, and slaio
tains, the king himself als<
smitten with the edge of the s
he hath put on his crown am
1 •
THE PEARL OF PRICE. 63
for many days. And when she draw-
jeth near the margin of the Caspian
sea, another bird cometh to meet her;
and behold it is her own nestling, and
they kiss one another with their bills
an hundred times. " But where is
the fowler," saith the mother bird ;
" and how hast thou escaped out of
his hands ? " " The officers have taken
him^" saith the young bird, ^^ and the
judg<^ hath judged him^ because he
laid wait for the jtniveller to slay him,
and his body now hangeth on a tree.
And I took my flight, for there was
none to stay me." " Then," saith
the mother, *\ let us bear back to the
princess Zobeid her Pearl of Price, for
only she took pity on us." And they
did as she had said. But |o ! the prince
her husband was grown a great king,
and Zobeid was s^ queen and sat on
a throne, and all men did her homage.
F 2
j^wi auu lAUBcrcujiCy ana noc
a gift again.
ALP ARSLAN.
About eight hundred years a
lived among the Turks a gr
qiieror to whom his people g
name of Alp Arslan, that is, the
Lion, on account of his fierce <
battle. The vast kingdom ol
he inherited from his uncle ;
satisfied with that, hp aHo/^i^o-
ALP ARSLAN. 55
at their ears, as a token of their being
his slaves. After this, he made war
upon the emperor of Constantinople,
and gained a great victory, in which
the emperor was taken prisoner ; and
when he was brought before him, he
leaped from his throne and set his foot
upon his neck. Afterwards^ however,
he behaved generously to him, and set
him free for a ransom. Then Alp
Arslan determined to march all across
his kingdom of Persia, and conquer
the countries which lie to the East,
beyond the great river Oxus or Gihon ;
for even yet he did not think himself
^eat enough, or powerful enough, al-
,though he was ruler over the fairest
provinces of Asia, and although twelve
liundred princes, or sons of princes,
stood at the foot of his throne and
owned him for their lord and master.
And he collected a vast army and
: but be^
' Oxua, it
1 a castle
. its brave
to defend
ibie. It
i mighty
ce could
It last k
brought
was pro-
igry and
bo knew
luty, an-
ALP ARSLAN. 57
The guards would have seized him^
but the king bade them leave him
alone; hewasreckoned the best archer
of his time, and he chose to kill his
enemy himself. But the arrow of Alp
Arslan missed its aim ; and Joseph,
rushing upon him gsye him a mortal
blow before the guards could disarm
him: Thekinglivedonlyafewhours:
when he felt his end approachiiig, he
said to those around him; ^^ I now
recollect two pieces of advice given
ine by a wise man : the first, not to
despise any one ; the second, not to
think too highly of myself : but I have
done both; for yesterday surveying
my numerous host from an eminence,
I thought that there was nothing on
earth which could resist me, nor any
mortal who would dare to rise up
against me; and today when I saw
the man approach with his dr^wn
against destiny.
The body of this prince ti
at Meruy a city of the kii
Chorasan, and on his tomb i
ten these words : " O ye i
seen the grandeur of Alp Ars
to the skies, come to Meru,
will behold it buried in tl
Now even this inscription is ^
the tomb itself has been destrc
the very place of it is forgott
THE GEXEROUS RIVALS. 59
glorious in ancient times above all the
other cities of Greece, or indeed of the
virhole world, for the prodigious number
of great and eminent men in eveiy
line; statesmen, and captains, and
philosophers, orators, and poets, and
historians, who were bom and flou*
rished in it By means of its excellent
writers too, a great many of interesting
stories concerning all these celebrated
jpersons have been handed down even
to our days ; so that their fame is stitl
fresh, and we may almost fancy that
we have known and conversed with
them, though it is now above two thou-
sand years since Athens was at the
height of her power and prosperity^
and the most illustrious of her children
lived and died.
There were anumgit the re»t two
orators, or public §p§tik§f§f mtmd
.Demosthenes and J^hin^^ \Mwmu
other with great offences* J
nes accused iEschmes of
bribe from Philip king of
and iBschines accused Demo
having broken the law by p
the senate to decree him a
gold for a reward. A day
for ^chines to bring this cl
for \Demosthenes to defen<
before all the people. Eac
himself to the utmost ; but ]
nes, who was the more el
the two; — indeed he is
reckoned the greatest oratoi
THE GENEROUS RIVALS. 61
this, forgot all his anger against his
accuser, and going to him, entreated
him to aiccept of a present of money
before his departure.
Poor ^chines was touched to the
heart by this noble conduct : " Ah ! ^
cried he, " how do I grieve at quitting
a country where I have found an enemy
so generous that I despair of finding
in any other place a friend to equal
him ! "
It was to the island of Rhodes that
iEschines banished himself; there he
opened a school to teach the art of
public speaking, and he began his
lectures by reading his own oration
against Demosthenes, and his in reply*
The hearers gave great applause to his,
but much greater to that of his rival.
This was a severe trial ; but -ffischines
stood it nobly : " Ah ! " he exclaimed,
" what would you have thought if you
G
eacn ot tnem must otlen h;
the name and the praise of i
and what a satisfaction mus
felt in hearing it without tl
envy and malice, and not .
a foe but a friend !
THE MAGPIE IN THE GOOS
BUSH.
" Can you build a house?"
THE GOOSEBERRY-BUSH. 63
haps. The cause of the difference is,
that many kinds of creatures never
could be taught, by others of their
t>wn kind, things which it is yet ne-
cessary for them to do. Most insects,
for instance, never know a parent ; for
the mother lays her eggs and then dies,
Jong before they are hatched. Birds
do know their parents ; they are care-
fully fed, and attended, and taught to
catch or choose their food, to fly, or to
4swim, according to their nature, both
by father and mother. But when once
they are fledged and full grown, and
their education as it may be called, is
finished, the old ones drive them away
from the nest, and never take any fur-
ther notice of them ; they seem entirely
to forget that they are their cbil4rmi.
This separation of the fftmili^n hftp-
pens in the autumn ; 4urifi{( tb# wintefi
the young bird« i?itb*<r Vi^i U^%^\(^t
64 THE MAGPIE IN
in little flocks, or else each lives alone,
picking up its food where it can, and
sheltering itself in some tree, or bush,
or hole. In the spring they pair ; and
then they begin to think of haying
eggs and young ones, and it is neces-
sary to set about building a nest. This
they have notbeentaughttodo; the nest
of their parents was made before they
* capae into the world, and they have
never seen the art practised by any
Other bird. But the Author of Nature,
who foriBsees and provides for all, has
given to these creatures a power or
faculty of doing all that it is necessary
for them to do, without being taught,
and without knowing beforehand the
use or intention of what they are doing.
This power we call instinct, and it is
by it that the silkworm spins its web,
and the bird builds its nest.
Generally, instinct directs the crea-
THE GOOSEBERRY-BUSH. 65
ture exactly, in every point, and one does
- not vary from another in the least ; thus
.every bee makes its cell in the same
shape, and every bird of the same kind
builds its nest in the same manner, and
.in the same sort of places. But there
are some curious instances in which
the creature seems not to be guided
. by its instinct ; but, like man, to learn
by trying one way after another ; and
:when it is prevented from going about
its work in the way pointed out to it
by nature, which is always the easiest,
.it is not left without the means of finds
.out for itself what is the next best way
of managing.
The jackdaw, wherever it can, makes
its nest in a hole, of some high build-
ing, out of the way of its enemies ;
commonly in a church steeple : but in
those parts of England where it hap-
pens that the churches are very low,
66 THE MAGPIE IN
and without steeples, the jackdaw has
taken up tihie fashion of sheltering it-
self| and making its nest, in rabbit
burrows.
Magpies always build in high trees,
where there are any; but a traveller
lately observed a pair who had hit
upon a different plan. It was in one
of th^ barest parts of Scotland; not a
tree of any kind was to be seen for
miles, but in a cottage garden there
was a gooseberry-bush, and he ob-
served a pair of magpies very busy
.about it, going in and out continually.
On inquiry, the owners of the cottage
told him, that the birds had built there
for seven or eight years ; and because
in this loif bush they were in danger
ivovfi the ^ttpicks of cats and dogs, they
liad collected a great quantily of stalks
and twigs, and the thorny sprays of
the gooseberry itself; and twisted and
THE ISLANDERS. 67
matted them together so firmly round
their habitation, that neither dog uor
cat could break through. They were
alsQ afraid pf having their eggs taJcen
by the cottager's children ; and to pr^
vent this, they had stretched out their
hedge just so far all round, as to be out
of reach of their little arms.
So kindly and so admirably has
every creature been provided with the
measure of skill and cunning necessary
to its life and safety.
THE ISLANDERS.
In a certain part of the world, sepa-
rated by a narrow strait from the con-
tinent, there lies a large Island, which
some of its early discoverers have de-
scribed as green and fertile, blessed
with a healthful air and temperate cli-
68 THE ISLANDERS
-mate. In some parts there were ridges
•of high rocky mountains, but for the
most part it was a land gently varied
with hill and dale, and watered with
many softly flowing streams.
Thick forests of oak and other hardy
trees darkened, and as it were encum-
bered the face of the country, mingled
with wide sandy wastes covered with
heath and furze, stagnant pools, and
rushy fens. The stag, the roebuck,
and the urus, or wild bull, grazed the
thick herbage of the valleys or broused
among the tangled thickets ; there also
roamed the bear, the wolf, the fox, and
the wild cat. The wild boar haunted
the reedy marsh, the badger made his
home in the caves or amid the roots
t)f fallen trees, the fish-devouring otter
lurked under the fringed banks of the
iake, and the industrious beaver formed
liis curious dams across the streams.
THE ISLANDERS. 69
The eagle screamed from the lofiy
rocks, the kite and buzzard hovered
aroimd the skirts of the woods, while
tbeiieron and the bittern sought their
vprey amid the plashy pools, and gulls
' and cormorants nestled in the clifis, or
rode upon the billows of the surround-
ing o<iean.
In the northern parts of the island,
the savage natives lived chiefly by
hunting, and in times of scarci^ were
driven to appease their hunger with
^e harsh or tasteless berries which
wer^ the best fruit the land afforded,
or sometimes with the roots or bark of
trees. In the southern partd, where
'merchants or settlers from the conti-
nent had introduced a rather more
comfortable mode oi living, they fed
cattle and nourished themselvel Mith
the flesh and the milk ; but of the arts
of making cheese and butter they were
great autlibrity over them,
had invented a great numbc
monies and sacrifices, whicb
formed in secret groves,
shade of mighty oaks ; an
horrid altars they shed the
of beasts alone, but often o:
low men. It is said that th
had among them a kind of
but if they had, they carefu
to themselves ; the rest of t
high and lo^, were totally i
THE ISi:*ANDERS. 73
were found by the famous Julius Caesar,
the first Roman emperor, when he
landed among them rather less than
nineteen hundred years ago . Find ing
them so barbarous and so divided
amongst themselves, he thought to
make an easy conquest of them ; but
with all their wants and their ignorance,
they were a free and generous people ;
and they fought so bravely for their
native land, that he was obliged to go
away at last without having won for
the Romans a single foot of British
ground : the Britons did indeed mdke
a kind of promise to pay the Romans
some tribute, but that they soon ex-^
cased themselves from performing.
And thus things remained between
them a long time, during which the
Romans were too busy with civil wars
to send any more armies abroad td mak^
fresh conquests. .
H
74
THE ANCIENT BRITONS AND
BOADICEA.
Perhaps you will now like to hear
something fiHther of the fortunes of our
Islanders, and through what means
civilised people became acquainted
with them, and gradually taught them
arts, and introduced things useful and
convenient and elegant. Firsts it may
be mentioned, that a good while before
the Romans came hither, the Island
had been visited by the Phoenicians^
a people who lived at the Eastern end
of the Mediterranean sea ; the great
and ancient cities of Tyre and Sidon,
mentioned in Scripture, belonged to
them, and they were the greediest tra-
ding nation then in the world. In very
early times they had sent out their
THE ANCIENT BRITONS, &C. 75
ships, and explored almost all the
coasts and islands of the Mediter-
ranean ; seldom attempting to make
conquests, even where they found the
people few and easy ta be subdued;
but trading with them, and so growing
rich themselves at the same time that
they taught the use of many things to
tribes of men who before were rude
and destitute savages.
> . In course ef time, these Phoenicians
grew bolder, and passing the Pillars
of Hercules, which was the name a.n-
ciently given to the Straits of Gibral-
tar, they entered the Atlantic ocean;
and after creeping round by the shores
of Spain and of France, then called
Gaul, they at length discovered the
Scilly Isles off the coast of Cornwall,
to which the name of the Cassiterides
was given. Here they found out mines
of lead and tin, and in exchange for
76 THE ANCIENT BRITONS
these metals they probably gave toys
and tools and ornaments, and perhaps
woollen cloths — the same kind of ar-
ticles with which in these later ages
the English carry on trade with the
Iqdians of North America and the
simple natives of the South Sea Islands;
This commerce the Phoenicians found
so gainful, that they kept all knowledge
of the pliace where they carried it on
as much as possible to themselves ; and
not being, as I said before, a conquer-^
ing people, th^ made no settlements }
and it is even doubtful whether they
ever landed on the main island of
Great Britain or not. But the Gauls
had great intercourse with the Southern
coast. Caesar believed that the people
of the county of Kent, which was al-
most all he saw of the country, were
settlers from Gaul, for the langus^e,
religion, and manners seemed to be
AND BOADICEA. 77
the same. The rud^r tribes of the
North appeared to be of the same blood
as the Germans ; and there was a-^no-
tion that the people of South Wales
were a colony from Spain.
The Romans however were the great
civilisers of the country ; but at the
isame time they were its. conquerors
and oppressors. It was about a hun-
dred years after the attempt of Caesar
before they set in earnest about sub-
duing the BritonSy and it was a busi-
ness which it took them many years
hard fighting to accomplish ; for the
brave Britons were continually taking
up arms again to resist their invaders,
long after the Romans reckoned them
conquered. One of their most valiant
leaders was Caradoc, called by the
Ron^ans Caractacus, king of the Si-
lures, the people of South Wales; and
there are still to be seen on the borders
h2
78 THE ANCIENT BKITONS -
of that country, hills with the earth
cut into deep ditches and thrown up
in steep mounds all round them, which
are known to have been his camps :
and near them, commonly on lower
ground, there are square spaces, also
enclosed with mounds and ditches,
which were the camps of the Romans.
At length, however, Caradoq was
beaten and obliged to take refuge with
a British queen named Cartismandua.
She basely gave him up to the Romans ;
and he was sent with his wife, his son
and daughter, and his brothers, to
Rome, where the emperor Claudius
received him in a kind of triumph ;
but being moved, it is said, by a speech
which he made on being brought be-
fore him, and by the manly spirit with
which he bore his misfortunes, the
emperor granted him and all his family
their lives and liberties*
AND BOADICEA. 79
The Britons had also a heroine
among them named Boadicea, or Boji-
duca, whose fame ought never to pe-
rish. She was the widow of a king
who reigned in Norfolk and some
neighbouring counties, and who, on
his death, left the Roman emperor an
equal share in his fortune with his own
daughters, hoping thus to engage him
to protect them. But the Roman offi-
cers, with the usual insolence of that
overbearing people, seized upon the
whole of what he had left, turning the
widow and daughters out of doors;
and on Boadicea's remonstrating, they
causied her to be scourged with tods,
and her daughters treated in the most
brutal and insulting manner. The
news of this barbarous and wick^
conduct so enraged the Britons, that
they all, except the inhabitants of Lon-
don, rose in arms, with Boadiqea for
80 THE ANCIENT BRITONS
their leader, and attacking the Romans
by surprise, put them all, men, women
and children to death wherever they
could find them, to the number of
seventy or eighty thousand, and Boa-
dicea took and plundered London, and
slew all whom she found in it. But
now the chief commander of the Ro-
mans, who had been fighting on the
opposite side of the country, marched
against them, with a much smaller, but
better disciplined army ; and drew up
his men to give them battle. Boadicea,
confident of victory from her superior
numbers, rode up and down in her
chariot to exhort them to fight bravely ;
and her noble figure, her fine counte-
nance and her undaunted courage, won
upon the hearts of her countrymen and
added to the effect of the speech in
which she exhorted them to avenge
b^r injuries and their own, and at once
AND BOADICEA. 81
to punish the wickedness of their op-
pressors and recover their own liberty
for the future. For herself, she said,
she was resolved to conquer or die ;
the men might, if they pleased^ live
and be slaves. At the end of her
speech she let loose a hare, which
she held in the fold of her robes;
which was a sacred animal among
them, and regarded as a sign of vic-
tory. But the Romans by their supe-
rior skill and discipline, put the Bri-
tons to flight almost immediately ; they
showed no mercy, and it is said that
eighty thousand of the vanquished
were put to the sword. Boadicea her-
self escaped falling into their hands ;
but she died soon after, either of grief
or by poison.
After these things the Romans pos-
sessed themselves of as much of the
island as they thought worth having,
XX«I^O«SA« »«^^«Aa^Jl'
obliged them to withdraw thei
and give up Britain entire
some time after the lazy and c
Britons were conquered by the
the Angles, and other natio
Germany. Vast numbers <
were killed, and the rest dri'
Wales ; and from the time of
quest the southern part of th
was called England.
LONDON. 83
engaged in wars with their neighbours,
and wanting a place of safety in which
to leave their wives, children and cattle,
when they marched out to battle, de-
termined to build a town. For this
purpose, they fixed on a dry and
healthy spot of ground, rising above
the marshes which lay to the east of
it ; with a broad and deep river to the
south, and a great forest to the north
and west, well stocked with stags and
wild boars. Here they raised a great
cluster of huts without windows or
chimneys, and threw up a mud wall
around them. And this was the
origin of London ! The town was
probably founded before the time of
Caesar ; but he makes no mention of
it. Not long afterwards, however, it
grew a place of consequence ; foreign
merchants found it out, and visited it
by means of its noble river Thames ;
84 LONDON.
and the inhabitants soon became great
traders. They exported cattle, hides,
com, a few dogs, probably mastiffs,
for which this country has always been
famous, and what is shocking to tell —
their own fellow-countrymen, whom
they sold for slaves. In return, they
imported salt, earthenware, works in
brass, horse-collars, and toys of bone
and amber.
The Romans possessed themselres
of London among their first conquests ;
probably there were a great number
of Romans there when Boadicea took
it, and made so great a slaughter and
destruction. After this, the Romans
sent a magistrate every year from Rome
to be its governor, for they were afraid
to trust the people to govern them-
selves. By degrees it grew a rich and
luxurious city ; the natives learned the
fioman language and manners ; many
LONDON. 85
of them liked to wear the Roman
dress, which was a long gown, called
the tog^ and they began to imitate
them in their great feasts and fine
houses^ and delicate baths. At the
same time they grew lazy and cow-
ardly, aud quite reconciled to being
a.CDQqwred people governed by fo-
Tj^gaers, provided th^ could gadn
ri0he$ and buy all these new bixuries
which Ihey had become so fond of.
. . In ,tite mecin time, the Romsui offi-
C0irj3 wept on introducing into the coun^-
try miaBy things really; useful and
agx^eeable. You have heard that the
^i^anders had at first no fruits but a few
poor berries ; such as bilberries^ black-
berries, cranberries, hips and haws,
cfrabs and aloes ; and perhaps a few
wood, strawberries and wild raspber-
ries; but the Romans soon planted some
of the iin^^r kinds of fruits^ which they
86 LONDON.
bad themselves brought from the de^
lightful countries of Lesser Asia, when
they had conquered and made them
part of their great empire, LucuUus;
a very rich Roman, famous for bis lux-
urious table, had introduced the cherry
into Italy from the kingdom of Pontus,
of which he had been governor ; and
not a great many years after, the cherry
found its way into the remote Britain,
which the Romans considered as al-
most another world. Probably the
peach, nectarine, and apricot soon foL
lowed ; the apple was brought very
early, and as a great favour, the Romans
gave leave to the Britons to plant vines,
which this proud people did not allow
to all their conquered provinces.
Besides this, they built bridges, and
made straight roads all across the coun-
try from i^ide to side and from end to end, '
which were so firmly paved with stone,
XONDON. 87
that remains of them may be seen in
many places to this day ; they also
taught the arts of burning brick and
mixing mortar ; and they raised tem-
ples and other public buildings.
At last they took.awa:y the old earth
mound which the Britons had thrown
up round London, built a fort where
the Tower now stands, and surrounded
the town with walls so thick and strong,
that they might still be standing if
they had not been pulled down, for
the sake of convenience, in modern
times ; indeed it was only a very few
years ago that the last remains of old
London Wall were cleared away.
It is not well known who built this
wall ; some think it was Constantine the
Great, the first Christian emperor of
the Romans ; it is certain, that it was
in honour of his mother that the city
was ordered to be called Augusta ; it
88 LONDON.
is often called so still by the poets^
who often like to mention things by
old and unusual names ; but the old
name of London soon came into common
use again ; indeed most likely it wai}
never quite left off.
Many Roman relics have been dug
up in London from time to time, such
as pieces of earthenware, beads, rings,
coins, and various utensils. Under
Bow church, were found the walls,
windows, and pavement of a Roman
templC) and near it the old Roman
causeway, buried very deep in the soil ;
two or three cemeteries, or placeig for
the remains of the dead, have been
discovered, which were filled with urns
containing ashes and cinders of bones,
for it was the custom of the Romans
to burn their dead. In digging the
foundations of the present St. Paul's,
which was built on the place of an
\
LONDON. 89
older church, they found a large and
very curious cemetery. First lay the
jSaxons, who conquered Britain after
die Romans; and they were in coffins
made of stones hollowed out, or in
graves lined with chalk-stones. Be-
neath them had been the bodies of the
Britons laid in rows, and their places
were marked by pins of ivory or box-
wood, which were thought to have fas-
tened their shrouds — but both shrouds
and bones had mouldered away. Under
these again, were found Roman urns,
and lamps, and lacrymatories, — that
is, bottles to hold tears — and near
these were vessels used in performing
sacrifices.
And this is nearly all that can now
be known of that ancient London;
though it was made by the Romans a
rich and great city, aud the capital of
their Britannia.
I 2
coast of Lesser Asia, there wa
cient times a magnificent temp
in honour of the goddess Diana
Ephesians looked upon it as thi
of their city, and strangers cam
far and near to behold it, and
their devotions and make gifts
goddess. At length, one unlucky
flames were seen to burst forth
the roof, and before they could 1
tinguished it was burned down
ground.
THE BURNER AND THE PLANTER. 91
that by this act his name might be
rendered for ever memorable. The
rulers of the country, in hopes of dis*
appointing him of this reward of his
evil deed, made a law that his name
should never be mentioned ; but even
this law made it more celebrated,
and it is known to this day, that
the man who was possessed with
this abominable ambition was one
Eratosthenes, of whom nothing else
is known.
Many other men have wished to be
remembered after their deaths by use-
less works, like the builders of the
pyramids of Egypt, or by wicked ones,
like all great conquerors, someofwhom,
among the nations of the East, have
reared vast pyramids of the skulls of
their enemies killed in battle, as monu-
ments of their great and glorious vic-
tories. Other men have been content
92 THE BURNER AND THE PLANTER.
to know in their own hearts^ that they
have endeavoured during life to do
good works, the benefit of which will
be felt by others after they are dead
and gone ; and they have not so much
cared whether their names would be
remembered and honoured by their
fellow^creatures or not ; knowing that
there is One who takes account of all
the works of the children of men.
* Such must have been the humble coun-
tryman of whom a writer has told the
following story : " I very often remem-
ber with pleasure an old man (I am
sure near a hundred) whom I rode by
in a journey to Devonshire, and ob-
served in the midst of a field that had
newly been ploughed, veiy busy with
a stick and a basket. When I came
up to the place he was at work in, I
found he was making holes in the
ground, and in every one of them
MARCO POLO. 93
planting an acorn. ' Friend^' said I,
*■ is it for profit or for pleasure you
labour?' * For neither, sir,' replied
the honest old patriot ; ^ but here
will be a grove when I want no
shelter.' "
MARCO POLO.
You have heard, I dare say, of the
famous and beautiful city of Venice,
called the Queen of the Adriatic. It
seems to rise out of the bosom of the
sea itself; for it is built on several
small low islands, with canals across
and between them, which serve for
streets ; so that no sound of wheels is
to be heard in the place, but all the
people go about in barges.
Some ages past, Venice was the most
famous merchant-city not only of Italy
now are ; for it was before the \
guese had ventured to sail
Africa by the Cape of Good
and found out that way to the I
They were carried overland,
thousands of tedious miles, on the
of camels, to some place on the
of the Black Sea, or theMeditem
to which the merchants of the We
especially of Venice, sent large
to fetch them, and to carry in exc
the different kinds of eroods ma
MARCO POLO. 95
to distant lands, to buy and seW ; and
sometimes in these travels of theirs they
met with very curious adventures, as
you shall hear. .
It was in the year 1250 that two
brothers of a noble family named Polo,
took their departure from Venice in a
ship of their own, laden with various
merchandize, and sailed to Constanti-r
nople, intending to return in the course
of a yeair. From Constantinople they
took ship again, and crossing the Black
Sea, travelled to the court of a certain
Tartar prince who reigned over the
country beyond, and having first gained
his favour by a present of some fine
jewels which they had brought with
them, they were kindly entertained by
him for the space of a twelvemonth,
after which they desired to return
home; but before they could .begin
their journey a war broke out in the
«M.«,^^ , — ^
reached the famous city of Bocha
the further side of the great kin
of Persia. Here the king hbsp
received them^ and not knowing
else to do, or whither to betake
selves, they tarried with him
whole years.
After this time there came t
ambassadors from the famous K
Khan, chief of all the Tartars,
mighty conqueror, whose dom
stretched far and wide over th
MARCO POLO. 97
well knowing that their great master
loved to talk with the men of distant
lands, persuaded the two Polos to ride
in their company to his court. They
were another whole year on their jour-
ney, the way was so long and so diffi-
cult ; but at length they reached the
end^ Kublay Khan made them very
welcome^ and finding them men of
skill, employed them in many services,
s^nd especially in devising machines
£qv attaqking a great city in China,
.where he was then making his con-
quests. And after they had followed
his commands there for many years,
he gave them in charge to carry a mes-
sage from him to the Pope at Rome,
cmd return to him again.
This business held them very long;
and they now took an opportunity to pay
a visit to their native city. There they
found the wife of one of them dead; and
K
98 MARCO POLO.
her son Marco, who was not even bom
at the time of his father's departure, now
a youth of nineteen years of age ; for
so long had their travel^s lasted. They
took him back with them, and at last
they all three reached the court of the
great Khan. He caused young Marco
to be instructed with other youths his
servants, and then he sent him on
many journeys and embassies from one
end of his vast empire to the other,
and afterwards he caused him to make
different long voyages through the un-
known seas of the further India, view-
ing all its coasts and islands. And
after he had made an end of the con-
quest of China, and went and held
his court in Cambalu, the chief city
which is now called Pekin, he took
Marco in his company, and made him
governor over a province.
Thus it was that Marco learned
»
MARCO POLO. 99
the languages of thos6 far countries, and
observed the different tribes and races
of men who dwelt in them, and their
various manners and customs, all new
and strange to him. He also saw their
many great and peopled cities, with
stately palaces, and tombs, and tem-
ples, glittering with gilded roofs; and
their mighty rivers crowded with ships.
He observed their wonderful beasts and
birds, and trees of tall growth, with
precious wood or fruits made to sup-
port the life of man. He visited their
shops and markets, and took note of
all their heaps and stores of rich and
precious merchandize ; — whatever the
bountiful earth had freely brought
forth, under the hot suns, or the art
and labour of man had made and
contrived ; and he wrote down the
whole in a book.
At last, after these men had seen
wilting to lose them, giving then
gifts at parting. They took ship
China, with certain ambassadors
an Indian king who were retui
home. It was a voyage of eigl
months through perils and hards
before they could reach his cou
and then a tedious and toilsome
ney onwards; but they perform
all ; and then embarking once s
on the Black Sea, they sailed to
stantinople, and reached their n
MARCO POLO. 101
. Tartars, and their features had passed
away from the memory of all their
friends, and they feared that none
would own them. Therefore they sent
round and invited all their family and
kinsmen to a great feast; and when
they were come, they all three appeared
before them in rich dresses of crimson
satin ; but these they soon stripped
off, and gave them to the servants who
waited, putting on richer ones of crim-
son velvet ; and these again they strip-
ped off and gave away in like manher,^
and appeared in robes of crimson da-
mask richer still. Then, at last, Marco
brought forth their Tartar dresses, made
of felt, like a man's hat, and ripping
them open, they drew forth an inesti-
mable store of jewels which they had
gained in their travels, and amongst
them the old family jewels of the Polos.
And when their kinsmen saw these,
k2
After this, Marco, being on
a Venetian ship which was tak
the Genoese in a sea-fight, was c
prisoner to Genoa, where he la}
before they would release him.
the young men of that city would
visit him in his prison, and as]
to tell them stories of his travels
at last they persuaded him to lei
all be written down and publisl
Very great wonder did his s
raise in all who read them; i
THE TWO LORD CLIFFORDS. lOS
Indian Sea ; or indeed, who had the
slightest notion that there were any
kingdoms and empires of civilised men
to the east of the land of Persia. Little
did they suspect that in those Eastern
countries were numberless ancient and
mighty nations, where millions of man-
kind, feeding on rice and clothed in
silk and in cotton, had flourished for
ages, reading and writing, and build-
ing great cities, and practising many
curious arts, whilst the finest countries
of Europe were still overrun by naked
savages dwelling in caves and feeding
on acorns.
THE TWO LORD CLIFFORDS
In the reign of King Henry the Sixth
there began great civil wars in Eng-
land ; that is, wars in which English-
men fought with Englishmen, and not
friendSi and Deign oours a^aaaio*,
bours; nay, it has even been
that a brother has met his bro
battle, or a son his father, and <
killed the other without being
of it The cause of these troub
that some people wished King
and his family, who were of th<
of the dukes of Lancaster, to c
to rule over them ; and other
thought that Henry's cousin 1
duke of York and his childre
t--A4 — «:«.k«. on/) cfmvf^ to mal
THE TWO LORD CLIFFORDS. 105
commander on the same side, and tvas
killed by the Yorkists in a battle fought
at St. Albans, and this had enraged
the young lord so much that bethought
he could never take sufficieht revenge
upon them. Five years after, a battle
was fought near Wakefield in York-
shire, in which the Lancastrians won
the day and the duke of York wa$
taken prisoner. His second son the
earl of Rutland, a boy not twelve years
old, was with him in the field ; i^nd
when all was lost^ a priest who was
his tutor endeavoured to escape with
him into the shelter of the town. But
the terrible lord Cliflford, observing the
rich dress of the young earl, pursued
him and overtook him on the bridge.
The poor boy was too much
frightened to speak a word ; but he
fell down on his knees at Clifford'^
feet, and held up his clasped hand^v
hereaner. *"- —
Clifford cried, "Thy father slei
and so will I thee and all th
And he struck his dagger mto t
boy's heart.
Then Clifford and some oth
the duke of York who w
priwner and seated him u
ftnt.hiU,and they plaited a <
irrMS and put it on his head
mockery, and bending their k
pretending to do him homt
Li^ « Hail kinor without a K
THE TWO LORD CLIFFORDS. 107
woman, to whose eyes he well knew that
the shocking sight would be welcome.
By these savage deeds Clifford
gained the name of the Butcher, and
it was not long before vengeance over-
took him, for the next year, at the
battle fought at Towton in Yorkshire,
being surrounded by his enemies, he
was wounded by an arrow in the throat
and died on the spot.
The son of Richard duke of York
was now king, under the name of Ed-
ward the Fourth, and the widow of
lord Clifford, fearing lest this prince
should cause the young lord her son to
be murdered in revenge for the death of
his brother Rutland, sent him secretly
away into Westmoreland, where the
family estates lay, and had him brought
up there among the moors and the moun-
tains, like a poor shepherd boy. He
was at this time only seven years old,
108 THE TWO LORD CLIFFORDS.
aad he grew up without knowing who
he was, or the rank which he was born
to. They did not even dare, it is
said, to teach him to write, for fear it
should be suspected that he was of
higher birth than he seemed.
, Four and twenty years did this
young lord lead the innocent life of a
ihepherd, unknown and forgotten, but
at the end of that time Henry the
Seventh came to the crown, and he,
being of the house of Lancaster, re-
stored to Clifford the estates and ho-
nours of his family, which the Yorkists
had taken 'away at his father's death.
Yet this simple man had sense to know
that he who had been bred like a shep-
herd was not fit to come to the king's
court, and appear like a lord ; and he
went and lived retired in a small house
ou.his. own estate, where he could im-
prove his mind with reading, and amuse
COLUMBUS. 109
himself with studying astronomy ; for
when he was a shepherd he had
learned to observe the stars. And
having been a poor man himself, he
knew how to pity the poor ; and, in^
stead of being proud and hard-heaited
like the former lords, he was so kind
to his. poor tenants and servants an<}
neighbours, and so humble and affable
to all, that he lived to a good old agd
beloved and respected ; and down to
this very day a memory of him is kept'
up among the shepherds of Westmore-s
land, and he is called The good lord
Clifford.
COLUMBUS.
It is now almost four hundred years)
ago, that there was born in the cityjof
Geppa in Italy, Christopher Golumbus/
His family were almost all sailors, and
i brought up for a sailor als
jtnd after being taught geography ai
larious other things necessary for
■ea-captain to know, he was sent (
loard ship at the age of fourteen.
His first voyages were short om
lip and down the Mediterranean ; b
degrees he began to want to s
jnore of the world, so he sailed in
he great Northern Ocean, as far
I Iceland, and a good deal furtht
in he entered on board a
COLUMBUS. Ill
ages to the Western coast of Africa,
and to the Canaries and the Madeiras
and Azoces, all of them islands^ lyit^g
off that coast; and which were then
the most westerly lands knoWn to Eu-
ropeans.-
, In his visits to these parts one per-
son informed him that his ship, sailing
put further to the West than usual, had
picked up out of the sea a piece of
wood curiously carved, but plainly not
with an iron tool: then he was told
by others that carved pieces of wood
of the same kind had been thrown on
the coast of Madeira, and that very
thick canes, like those which travellers
had found in India, had been seen
floating on the waves ; also, that grfeat
trees, torn up by the roots, had often
been cast on shore ; and once two dead
bodies of men with strange features,
neither like Europeans nor Africans.
the West) he looKea upuu tuc
tokens, sent from some unk
countries lying far awiay in that
ter, to invite, and as it were be
men from the East to go over tl
to visit them, and make discovei
When once this notion had
hold of him, he was eager to sail
und explore ; but as he had not i
enough himself to fit out ship
hire- sailors, he determined to g
try to persuade some king, or
COLUMBUS. Ii3
dreaming with his eyes open, and no-
body would give him a fair hearing.
As they would have nothing to say to
him there, away he went to the king
of Portugal. He understood more af
these matters than the Genoese; for
the Portuguese were great discoverers
at this time, and had lately found out
the passage to India by the Cape of
Good Hope ; so he ordered some skil-
ful men to hear fully what Columbus
had to propose. These men persuaded
the king to be so dishonest as to steal
Columbus's plan, and send out one of
his own captains instead, to look out
for countries in the West. But this
captain met with contrary winds, and
soon turned back without making any
discoveries : and when Columbus found
out how ill the king had used him, he
would stay no longer in Portugal, but
away he .went to Spain to make his
l2
114 COLUMBUS.
proposals to king Ferdinand and queen
Isabella. They appointed some people,
,aftera time, to inquire into his schemes,
and he was obliged to wait at their
court for his answer.
The Spaniards are generally very
dow and cautious about every thing ;
and if Columbus had not been as wise
and patient and constant, as he was
brave, he would have given up the
whole business in despair. Sometimes
they gave him hopes and promises,
then they made difficulties and objec-
tions and would do nothing. At the
end of five years, thinking it in vain
to wait longer there, he had det^r-
inined to go to England, whither he
had sent one of his brothers before,
who had been kindly received by king
Henry the Seventh ; and he was just
setting off, when a friend gave him
some fresh hopes in Spain, and he
COLUMBUS. 115
agreed to stay there yet a little
longer.
. This lUtle longer was spun out to
two years ; but then at last he had his
reward ; for queen Isabella stood his
friend, and gave him three ships, very
small ones indeed, for they carried all
together no more than a hundred and
twenty men ; and with these he set sail,
in sight of a vast crowd, all praying
for his success, but astonished at his
boldness in tempting the perils of an
untried ocean, and never expecting,
and scarcely hoping, to see either him
or any of his crews again.
Columbus first made sail for the
Canaries ; where he repaired his ves-
sels which were all old and crazy;
then, taking leave of these last islands,
he steered his course due West across
the great Atlantic, where never ship
bad ploughed the waves before. No
116 COLUMBUS.
sooner had they lost sight of land than
the sailors' hearts began to fail them,
and weeping and beating their breasts,
they bewailed themselves like men
condemned to die; but Columbus
cheered and comforted them with hopes
of the rich countries they were to dis-
cover.
After a while theycame within those
regions where the trade windy as it is
called, blows constantly from East to
West without changing, and this car-
ried them on at a vast rate ; but after
some time they found the sea covered
with weeds, as thick as a meadow with
grass, and the sailors fancied that they
should soon be stuck fast, that they
had reached the end of the navigable
ocean, and that some strange thing
would befall them. Still, however,
Columbus cheered them on, and the
sight of a flock of birds encouraged
COLUMBUS. 117
them. But when they had been three
weeks at sea, and no land appeared,
they grew desperate with fear, and
plotted amongst themselves to force
their commander to turn back again,
lest all their provisions should be spent;
or,, if he refused, to throw him over-
board. Columbus, however, made them
a speech which had such an effect upon
them that they became tolerably quiet
for a week longer. Several times in-
deed they fancied they saw islands
at a distance ; but they proved to be
only clouds. Then they grew so vio-
lent again, that he knew not how to
appease them, and at last, they say, he
was obliged to promise, that if they
did not see land in three days he would
consent to give it up and sail home
again.
But he was now almost sure that
land was not far off — the sea grew
COLUMBUS.
Ballower ; early every morning flock
T land birds began to flutter arouni
lem, and cheer them with their swee
■arblings ; and these little songster
11 left the ships in the evenings, as i
\ roost on shore. One of the vessel
pd picked up a cane newly cut, an)
pother a branch covered with fresl
md berries ; and the air blew sofle
lid warmer, and the wind began t<
That very night, therefore, Co
IS ordered the sails to be takei
COLUMBUS. 119
foremost ship ; and at dawn of day
they plainly saw a beautiful island,
green and woody, and watered with
many pleasant streams, lying stretched
before them. Columbus was the first
to leap on shore, to kiss the earth, and
to thank God on his knees : his men
followed ; and throwing themselves at
his feet, they all thanked him for lead-
ing them thither, and begged his for-
giveness for their disrespectful and
unruly behaviour. The poor inhabi-
tants, a simple and innocent people
with copper-coloured skins, came flock-
ing down to the beach^ and paid ho-
mage to the white men as to gods.
This was one of the West Indian
islands called by the natives Guana-
hani ; afterwards Columbus found se-
veral other very large and fruitful
isles; at length he landed upon the
coast of the great continent itself; and
120 THE GRATEFUL
this is the history of the discovery of
America, or the New World.
THE GRATEFUL AND THE MORE
GRATEFUL.
. There was once in France a poor
boy, the son of a butcher, named
Amyot. When he was only ten years
old, being threatened with a beating,
he was so frightened that he ran away
from home, and wandered on, not
knowing what to do, or whither to go.
At last he was found by a gentleman
sitting by the road side, weary and
forlorn, and very ill. The gentleman
pitied him so much, that he took him
up behind him on his horse, and car-
ried him to the next town, which was
Orleans, where he sent him to an
hospital.
At the hospital they nursed him and
AND THE MORE GRATEFUL. 121
took care of him till he was quite wel)^
and then charitably supplied him with
a little money to bear his expenses
home again.
Amyot afterwards went to study at
Paris^ and became a learned and dis-
tinguished person ; and partly by his
Own merit and diligence, partly by lucky
chances, he got into favour with many
great people, and at last with the king
himself, who made him a rich man.
But Amyot in the midst of all his good
fortune and grand acquaintance, never,
djaring his whole life, <;eased to re-
member his first benefactors at Orleans,
wha had taken pity on him when he
was a poor forlorn little boy ; and when
lie died, he left a large sum of money
to the hospital where he had been sa
kindly relieved. This showed a good
heart, and proved that he had not
grown proud with his success ; for if
tell you a stronger instance ot gi
than this.
There was once a great m
who was thought to be very r
he lived in .a fine house, fin
nished^ and kept carriages and
and gave great entertainmen
lived like a lord. And a great i
his neighbours, believing him
so rich trusted him with their
to keep for them ; and the.tra
and shopkeepers of all. kinds
1-Ai-i 1 ->- 1. -- 1 1-
AND THE MOR£ GRATEFUL. 123
then it was found that he had left no
money at all behind him ; he had spent
all that he had of his own, and all that ,
other people had trusted him with,
and nobody could get payment for any
of the things he had bought of them,
and many were ruined by their losses.
So every body said, very truly, that
he was a bad dishonest man, and had
cheated the whole town. And people
were so angry with him, i and so
ashamed of hirUi that his oldest ac-
quaintance and most intimate friends,
nay even his nearest relations, all re-
fused to attend his funeral.
But there was a tradesman in the
town, a plain, unlearned, working man,
but one who had a heart to feel what
was right and handsome, and a spirit
to do it ; and he came forwards and
said ; " This poor gentleman who is
dead has been a true friend of mine.
couragement^ and recommea<
to customers; and all the gc
cebs I have had since was
owing to him. Other peoj
think of his evil deeds, but
duty to remember his good one
ever he may deserve from t
was entitled to respect and g
from me. Jwill attend his fui
who will stay away."
And he followed the bod
despised benefactor to the gra'
in sight of every one.
125
THE SLOTH.
In the gloomy forests of Guiana, an
extensive country which occupies a
considerable portion of the Eastern
coast of South America, — forests where
enormous serpents make their home,
and scorpions and many venoitious in-
sects ; and where innumerable thorny
bushes and dangerous swamps, or bogs,
join to obstruct the steps of civilized
man, there lives an animal, about the
size of a moderate dog, called the Sloth.
It is even here a scarce and solitary
animal, for the native inhabitants of
the country, the Indians, find its flesh
so delicious that they never suffer it
to escape when they meet it.
As soon « as ever one of these was
taken alive and brought over to Europe,
this name was given it, from the slug-
gishness of its motions and the sleepi-
M 2
r
126 THE SLOTH.
ness of its air ; and many people won-
dered how so awkward and helpless a
creature could contrive to live; and
pitied it as the lowest and most unfor-
tunate of all the beasts of the earth.
When set on the ground, either the
fore legs seemed much too long, or
the hind legs too short ; and both Were
joined to the body in such a clumsy
fashion, that instead of being able to
stand up, the creature dropped with
his belly to the earth. Then his feet
^nded in claws so enormously long,
that he could scarcely have set his
feet flat down, even if he had had soles
to them; but he had none, and there-
fore when he did attempt, to walk it
was upon the tips of his claws. On
a smooth floor he could not get on at
all, unless he could catch hold of some-
thing with his claws to pull himself
along by. AH this while he would
THE SLOTH. 127
utter such strange and piteous cries,
that people fancied his voice was given
him for a defence, and served to
frighten away the wild beasts, who
would otherwise seize and devour him
whenever they pleased, for it was
plain he could not run away. It was
found however that this strange animal
had the power of living without food
for many weeks together ; and also
that he had great strength in his arms,
as they might be called, and that he
was as slow in loosening his grasp as
in any other of his motions ; and he
was known to hold a dog, which at-
tacked him, fast hugged till it died of
hunger, while the sloth himself suffered
not in the least by his fast.
But at length it has been discovered
for certain, that this Shth is no slug-
gard at all, neither is he helpless nor
miserable ; none of God's good crea-
1
128 THE SLOTH.
tures are created so; he made them
all to be happy, each in its own way
and according to its nature and capa-
city, and to show forth his wisdom and
goodness who breathed into them the
breath of life. Hear how he has been
described by a traveller who has had
the courage to explore those dark and
dangerous forests, and viewed hini
wild and in his native haunts !
The Sloth is the only quadruped
known, doomed to spend his whole
life in the trees, and not like the mon-
key and the squirrel upon the branches,
but under them. He moves suspended
from a branch ; he rests thus, and thus
he sleeps ; and to do this he must be
very differently formed from any other
animal. It is to be observed, that he
does not hang head downwards, like
the vampire-bat ; when asleep he sup-
ports himself in a kind of sitting pos-
THE SLOTH. 129
ture. He first seizes the branch with
one arm, and then with the other, and
after that brings up both his legs, one
by one, to the same branch ; so that
all four are in a line. He seems per-
fectly at his ease in this position ; and
indeed if we examine his fore legs,
we shall immediately perceive by their
.firm and fleshy texture, how very ca-
pable they are of supporting the pen-
dent weight of his body, both in
climbing and at rest. It is plain 4oo
from his whole form that he can n^ver
be at ease in any situation where his
body is higher than his feet, or above
them. In climbing, he never uses bis
arms both together, but first one and
then the other, and so on alternately.
If he had a long tail, he would be at
a loss what to do with it in his pen-
dent posture ; if he were to draw it up
with his legs, it would interfere with
130 THE SLOTH.
them ; and if he let it hang down^ it
would become the sport of the winds ;
accordingly, what he has is a mere
apology for a tail, scarcely exceeding
an inch and a half in length.
There is this singularity in his hair,
different from any other animal ; it is
thick and coarse at the ends, and gra-
dually tapers towards the root, where
it becomes as fine as the finest spider's
web. His fur is so much the hue of
the moss which grows on the branches,
that it is very difficult to make him
out when at rest. There is a saying
among the Indians, that when the wind
blows, the sloth begins to travel. In
calm weather he keeps quiet, probably
not liking to cling to the ends of the
boughs, which are thin and brittle,
lest they should break with him in
passing from tree to tree ; but as soon
as the wind riseS;^ the branches of the
THE SLOTH. 131
neighbouring trees become interwoven,
and then the sloth seizes hold of them
and pursues his journey in safety.
And in these forests there is seldom a
whole day of calm ; for in hot climates
like this, there is a wind called the
' trade- wind, which blows constantly
every day at a certain hour; and this
generally begins about ten o'clock in
the morning ; so that the sloth may
set , off after breakfast and get a con-
sidei^ble way before d inner. He travels
at a good round pace,' and if you were
to see him pass from tree to tree, you
wouldiiever think of calling him aSloth.
This creature is the three-toed Sloth ;
there is another kind somewhat smaller,
but very like the first, which inhabitsr
the same countries, and is distinguished
chiefly by having only two toes, with
long claws, on each foot. Of him the
same writer tells the following story: *
132 ' THE SLOTlf.
One day, as we were crossing the
river Essequibo, I saw a large ttea-toed
sloth on the ground, upon the bank ;
how he had got there nobody could
tolh Be this as it may, though the
trees were not above twenty yards
iW>m him, he could not make his way
through the sand time enough to
eftcii{>6 before we landed.
As soon as we got up to him he
threw himself upon his back, and de-
f^ded himself in gallant style with
hit fore legs. I took up a long stick
whieh WM lying there, held it for him
to hook on, and then conveyed him
to a high and stately tree. He mounted
with wonderful speed, and in about
a minute he was almost at the top.
He now virent off in a side direction,
and caught hold of the branch of a
neighbouring tree ; he then proceeded
towards the heart of the forest. I stood
THE WESTERN WILDERNESS. 133
looking on^ lost in amazement at his
singular mode of progress.
And so much for the poor despised
sloth, who ought now to be honoured
with a better name.
THE WESTERN WILDERNESS.
Towards the centre of North Ame-
rica, there are wide tracts of country,
stretching many hundreds of miles
from North to South, and from East
to West, which are almost uninhabited.
On the Eastern coast of this vast con-
tinent, which is washed by the Atlan-
tic Ocean, lie the provinces of the'
United States, peopled by a race of
men who came at first from England,
and who still speak our language and
follow our manners.
The Western shores bounded by the
N
country is still left free to tl
of native Indians who have ne
subdued by Europeans.
These tribes however are fc
the number of men in each tril
small; for they destroy one
by continual wars; and the
far too wide for these poor hui
keep as their own, or even to
over, though they sometimes
to great distances in pursuit c
game. Thus it hannens tlii
THE WESTERN WILDERNESS. 136
Yet the land is fair and fertile ; and
suited for men to till, and to plant, and
to make their abode in : thick forests
of stately trees, fit to build ships or
houses, cover the face of the country
in some parts, whilst in others wide
grassy plains, fit to grow corn or feed
cattle^ stretch as far as the eye can
reach ; various wild fruits, and among
the rest grapes of fine flavour, spread
a feast for the beasts and the birds>
which the traveller would gladly share*
Many mighty rivers, so broad and
deep, and of such a length of course,
that the boasted streams of Europe
are but brooks to them, overflow their
banks every season, and nourish thou-
sands of beautiful and sweet-smelling
plants, good for food, or for physic,
or other uses of man. Rugged moun-
tains, barren sands, and dismal marshes
are but sparingly intermixed ; and the
136 THE WESTERN WILDERNESS.
climate, though both very hot in sum-
mer and very cold in winter, is healthy
on the whole, and often exceedingly
delightful. It is likely that, a few
ages hence, Uie Americans of English
blood will have spread themselves
far and wide over this lovely wilder-
ness; and towns, and villages, and
pleasant farms will arise, and the busy
hum of men will resound where now
all is savage and rude, and no voice
of speech is heard.
Meantime, though man is not here,
vast multitudes of other living crea-
tures, beasts, and birds, and fishes,
and reptiles, and insects, innumerable
tribes, possess the land, and live, and
bring forth young ; and all are happy
according to their natures. Prodigious
herds of buflfaloes, or wild oxen, wander
over the open country and quench their
thirst on the margins of the rivers.
I
THE WESTERN WILDERNESS. 137
At some seasons of the year, the bulls
fight furiously, rushing together with
all their force, and each striving to
gore the other with his horns; their
frightful bellowing may then be heard
for many, many miles together, re-
sounding on all sides like peals of the
loudest thunder ; and at that time nei-
ther man nor beast dares venture near
them. When these animals have eaten
up the herbage or drunk the springs
dry in one region, they move on to-
wards another, like a great army on
its march. They are followed and
watched by bears and troops of large
wolves, who seize upon those which
fall sick, or lame, and lag behind, and
devour them in numbers ;' but still the
great host moves steadily along, fear-
ing nothing. At length they reach
the high steep banks of a river ; they
rush on eager to drink ; those behind
N 2
138 THE WESTERN WILDERNESS.
press violently against those before,
and push them on, in spite of them-
selves, till they are driven over the
edge of the bank, and are either
maimed or dashed in pieces by the
fall. Hundreds are sometimes killed
in this manner : the eagles who build
their nests in the islands of the river,
watch them as they come tumbling
over, and pouncing down, tear them
as they lie with their sharp beaks and
strong hooked talons.
There are also many different kinds
of deer, and of antelopes, or roebucks,
and goats, and a sort of sheep, all
which creatures either pasture in the
plains in herds, like the buffaloes, or
wander ab6ut, in families or little
troops, some feeding on the acorns,
or brousing on the leaves of the fo-
rests; others climbing the rocks to
nibble on the short turf. These are
^
THE WESTKRN WILDERNESS. 139
preyed upon by smaller wolves, and
by several animals of the tiger or cat
kind.
In the grassy plains there are little
creatures a good deal like marmots,
which are sometimes called whistling
hares ; they burrow in the ground, and
throw up the earth in little hillocks,
on which they sit whistling, or squeak-
ing, with all their might ; they live a
great number of them together, in
towns or villages of their own ; yet it
is very difficult to catch, or even to
get a good view of them ; for they
keep a sharp look out, and the mo-
ment a man comes near, they leave off
whistling, and all pop down into their
holes in an instant. There are some
other little burrowing animals, and
three or four sorts of squirrels ; and a
mouse which lays up great stores of
a sort of bean for its winter provision '
J
140 THE WESTERN WXLDERNE5S.
but the poor Indians often rob its nest
to keep themselves alive when game
is scarce. Of bears there are different
colours and sizes; some live a good
deal on acorns. and various nuts and
fruits, and on beetles, of which there
are vast numbers; but. even these will
feast on a fat beaver if he comes in
their way. The largest kind, called
the grizzly bear, is the most terrible
beast of prey in that quarter of ..the
world, except perhaps the great white
bear of the North. It is very little
less. than an ox; the print of its foot
is twice as large as a man's ; it has a
very thick shaggy coat, a savage eye,
and a horribly wide mouth ; and its
strength is prodigious.
A traveller in the wilderness being
pursued by one of these terrible crea-
tures, got up into a large tree; the
grizzly bear cannot climb trees, like
CHARLES THE BOLD. 141
other bears, because he is too heavy,
therefore he stood below, shaking the
trunk with his enormous paws and
trying to tear it up. He shook so vio-
lently that the poor traveller lost his
hold and tumbled down ; but very
luckily he fell plump on the body of
the bear, who was so frightened by the
isudden blow, that he started up, and
-ran away as fast as he could ; and you
may believe that the traveller did not
choose to run after him.
CHARLES THE BOLD.
Charles, duke of Burgundy, was a
prince who deserved to be called the
Bad, or, as he was sometimes called^
Rash, full as well as the Bold. He
was violent, and impatient, proud, and
hard of heart. It happened, that the
142 .CHARLES THE BOLD.
good and honest people of Switzerland
did something which gave him great
offence, and he threatened to make
.war upon them. He was strong and
powerful, and therefore the poor Swiss
very humbly oflFered to do every thing
• they possibly could to satisfy him, and
to repair any fault he thought they had
committed against him ; but he would
not listen to any thing they could pro-
pose. . They then represented to him,
that their country was small, and.bar-
ren, and mountainous ; and that they
themselves were so very poor, that if
he could take them all prisoners and
make them pay ransom, and they were
to give him all that they had in the
world to redeem their lives, they could
I not give enough to pay even for the
spurs and bits of his grand war horses;
so that it was not worth his while to
fight with them.
k
CHARLES THE BOLD. 143
- But Charles was too fierce and too
obstinate to be moved by any of their
reasons or entreaties, and he marched
an army to besiege a town of theirs
called Granson. The garrison was
obliged to surrender to his mercy, and
mercy he had none, for he put them
every man to death. Just after this
cruel execution, the Swiss army came
up, and he gave them battle. Partly
by his own bad management, his men
were beaten, and ran away as ftist as
they could to save their lives ; leaving
their camp, witb their tents arid every
thing th^F had in thein to fall into the
hands of the Swiss.
'. There was plenty of rifch plunder,
besides tents and clothes and otKer
useful things; for the diike, out'
of pride, had brought widi him his
finest silver plate, atid all his grand
otmaments and jewels. But the pbo1r
Swiss knew so little about iVies.^ ^kl^
144 CHARLES THE BOLD.
things^ that they took the silver cups
and dishes for pewter, and sold them
almost for nothing ; and the soldier
who had got the duke's best diamond,
which was one of the largest in Europe,
after tossing it carelessly about, sold
it for one silver coin, worth about
eighteen pence.
Charles the Bold slunk away
from this unlucky field of battle, very
much vexed and very much ashained,
and all his enemies rejoiced and
made a mock of him. But after a
while he resolved to take his revenge^
and he marched forth against them
again with a fresh army. This time the
Swiss had * made themselves stronger
than before ; for they had got horse'
soldiers now to ride after their enemies
if they should run away once more, and
to kill or take them. And they fought
so bi*avely that they gained another
^reat victory, and slew many thou-
CHARLES THE BOLD. 145
sands of the duke of Burgundy's men;
and Charles himself, who had made
quite sure of conquering that poor
little peaceful country, was obliged to
flee away and hide himself. Then
the Swiss collected together the bones
of all his men who had been slain into
one great heap, and raised a building
over them, and they put an inscription
upon it saying thus : "Charles the Bold,
dufce of Burgundy, having invaded this
country with a mighty host, left this
monument of his deeds behind him."
This is called the battle of Morat,
from the place where it was fought ;
and the heap of bones with the in-
scription was shown by the Swiss with
honest pride for several ages ; but the
French wickedly destroyed it somie
years ago, when they invaded the
country. Charles the Bdd mcJt with
the fate he deserved, being defeated
o
INFERENCE-MAKING.
" What is the matter wil
thumb, my dear, that you ha\
wrapped up?" said a lady om
her little girl. " I have cut it, r
with my new knife." " Ah ! '
were holding the knife in y
hand.'' The little girl loob
prised. " O no! indeed, mj
she cried, " I never hold a 1
my left hand now." " No ? pr
INFERENCE-MAKING. 147
is told as an example of what is called,
making an inference^ which is a way
of finding out something which we do
not know, from 3ome other thing which
we do know. ' This.is a very curious
and useful art, and it will be therefore
worth while to give you a few more
examples, that you may understand
clearly what it is.
;; A dog, it is said, can make an in-
ference ; for when he has lost sight of
his master, and follows him by the
scent, if he comes to a place whiere
three roads part, he will smell at the
first, and if the scent is not there, he
will smell at the second, but if the
scent is not there neither, he will run
along the third road without smelling ;
thinking thus with himself: My master
is not gone this way, nor yet that way
therefore he must be gone the third
way, since there is no other.
148 IKFERENCZ-MAKING.
I have heard of a more 6ur30iis ior
stance of a dog who had cunning
enough to draw his master into a false
inference. This dog, who was tied
up in a yard at nighty had found out
that his collar was so loose that he
could slip his neck in and out as he
pleased ; and he took advant^^ of this
to go out in the dark and kill sheep*
When he came back after committing
this offence, he always put his neck
into the collar again, that his master
might say, " My dog is safe tied up
here, as I left him, therefore it could
not have been he who killed the sheep."
At last, however, the rogue was closely
watched, and his trick found out
Columbus, sailing along ah undis-
covered coast, came to the mouth of
a river larger than any he had ever
seen, he inferred that the land must be
a part of some mighty continent, and
INFERENCE-MAKING. 149
not an island ; because all the springs
which could rise, and all the rain which
could fall in an island, could never,
as he calculated, supply water enough
to feed so prodigiously broad and deep
a river. He was right : this was the
first discovery of the great continent
of America, and the river was the
Orinoko.
A farmer whose land lay near the
sea in the marshes of Holland, walk-
ing in his fields, spied a live herring
in one of the ditches ; and he went
directly and sold his estate. Knowing
that the herring is a fish never found
but in salt water, he inferred from
seeing one there, that the sea had
found a passage through, or under,
the banks raised on the beach to keep
it out ; and that it would soon swallow
up that part of the country. And sd
it proved ; it is now all a great bay
o 2
P50
IXFERESCE-SIAKISG.
;alied the Zuyder Zee. What t!
butchman did was wrong; to sell
i neighbour land which he belie?
[vould soon be turned into water, ti
5rtainly not doing as he would
■lone by ; but his inference was a rig
|ind a clever one.
There are some inferences whi
Iny body may make who will thii
Ind pay attention to common thin
pass before his eyes ; others
quires knowledge and book-learni
inference-making/ 151
" And you see very clearly now?"
" O yes ! " " Well ; what colour is
that gown ? " " Black, as a crow, my
lord*" " Right And what colour is
this cloak ?" " Red, my lord, red as
blood." "I will have you whipped,"
said the duke, " for a rogue and a
cheat ; if you had been born blind,
and had but just now gained your
eye-sight, you would be able to dis-
tinguish the colours indeed, but how
should you have known the names of
them?" This was an inference which
any person might make who had his
wits about him ; but not so the others
which I am going to mention.
Aristippus, a Grecian pkilosopherj
which means a lover of wisdom, in
passing over from Corinth to Asia,
was shipwrecked on the isle of Rhodes.
Observing, as they landed, some ma-
thematical figures, such as squares,
162 INFERENCE-MAKING.
circles, and triangles, drawn upon the
sands, he said to his companions,
" Take courage ! I see the footsteps
of men ! " inferring, not only that the
island must be inhabited by human
creatures, but that they could not be
savages, since mathematics was known
among them. The same Aristippus,
having no doubt observed how many
inferences his own knowledge had
enabled him to make, more than others,
said, that it was better to be poor than
ignorant, for the poor man wanted
only money, but the ignorant man
wanted what distinguishes men from
brutes.
Some years ago, a stone coffin was
dug up in a field near London, and
though there was not a single word of
writing upoii it, there were persons
capable of reading, by inference, very
plainly, that the skeleton within had
INFERENCE-MAKING. 153
been a Danish lady of quality in the
tim^ of paganiion, or heathenism.
Ths^ she belonged to jsome one of the
pagan nations who fonnerly possessed
this island, was inferred from the
placing of the coffin ; which was not
laid with its head towards the East^
according to the custom of Christians,
but towards the North. But that she
was not one of the ancient Britons, was
inferred again from its being known
that they did not bury In coffins of any
kind ; and that she was not a Saxon,
although these people were pagans
when they first conquered Britain, and
were accustomed to use stone coffins,
was inferred from her teeth being all
filed to a point. This was known to
be the mark by which, in ancient times,
Danes of noble birth were distinguished
from the common people. A Danish
lady, therefore, she must have been.
tertainmg interences mey can
and this ought to be an encourag
to you to take pains to learn \
consider things.
MAN AND HIS SERVANTS
Man is said to be the king of
lower animals, because there
creature, however it may excel
in strength or in swiftness, or h(
fierce and savage it may be, wh
is not able to conquer by means
MAN AND HIS SERVANTS. 155
spring of the tiger ; but he has Reason
on his side; she teaches him to dig
the pitfall, to set the trap and spread
the snare ; to draw the bow and to
load the gun ; and with the help of
these, he dreads none of the beasts of
the forest or the field. But if he can
destroy these fierce creatures, he can-
not make servants of them; and though
he may indeed strip off* the lion's skin,
when he has killed him, to serve him
for a cloak, or make a meal on the
flesh [of a fat bear, he would find these
rather awkward animals to harness to
a cart, or to milk, or to ride upon :
But for the honour of it, a hunter
would rather l)e clothed in a woollen
blanket than a lion's hide : and except
as a rarity, it is better to dine on beef
and mutton than on wolf hams or
tiger steaks : though there is an old
story about a little boy who was fed
1-56 MAN AND HIS SEIIVANTS.
lion's marrow, which, they s
Inade a great hero of him ; but tl
J suspect, is little better than an ii
Bale.
The earth abounds however with otl
Ireatures, eaters of grass and boug
Ind herbage, which, though large a
■trong, are so gentle and tractable tl
pan has found it worth while to ft
1 to tame tliem, and to make the
; it were, a part of his househo!
; uses of these are various. T
MAN AND BJS SERVANTS. 167
with them into the thickest of the
fight, trampling down whole nmks of
men and horses. At other times, he
carries a gay pavilion, covered with
cloth of gold, thickly set with pre^
cious stones, and carefully closed on
aH sides with silken curtains ; within
which sit the queens and great ladies
of the East, whose &ces no man but
their husband is permitted ta behold.
At other times again, he bears his bold
nester to the chace of the tigeif:
Uftfsd thm on high above the jaws of
the savage animal, be throws^ his spear
or aims with his g^ ; and when the
tiger, fiuious with his wounds, icings
deaperately up against his assaflant,
his faidifbl elephant catches him on
kta tusks and throws him in the air ;
and at last tramples him^ under his
heavy feet^ and beats hnn dowtt with
hb trunk.
|158 MAN AND HIS SERVANTS.
The industrious camel is the serv
■ of the merchant and the pilgrim ;
Iktieels down at the word of comma
land receives his burden ; cloth, ors
lor the rich shawls of Cashmeeij
■ gums, and drugs, and spices, or c
■perhaps, or bags of treasure, or i
Ithe food and the jars of water wh
I are to serve the travellers on tl
|long and sultry march.
Many men and many camels jourc
i; together, are called a caravan
MAN AND HIS SERVANTS. 159
upon by night, and a scanty draught
• of muddy water. The camel is called
in Arabia The Ship of the Desert, and
but for it, the dwellers amongst the
-sands would be cut off from all other
lands, as if by an impassable ocean.
Its milk is sweet and «nourishing, its
flesh is wholesome food^ and cloth is
woven of its hair.
What the camel is to the Arab, the
reindeer is to the poor but contented
Laplander; it is his only riches; he
feed's on its flesh and its milk, makes
his clothing and his bed of its skin,
and . by harnessing it to his sledges,
travels fast and far oVer the frozen
hills of his bare and wintry land,
clothed in almost perpetual snows.
Who shall number up the services
of the noble horse, the most beautiful
of quadrupeds, the pride and delight
of his master beyond all other crea-
160 MAN AND HIS SZJSiV ANTS.
tures? He bears the huntsman in
the chace of Uie swift ostrich or liie
bounding antelope, of the fleet «tag or
the hard-running fox. He whirls the
light chariot along the level road, drags
the heavy-laden waggon; at the sound
of the trumpet bears the fierce solctier
in pursuit of the flying foe ; or draws
the slow plough of the peaceful fau9-
bandman. Amcmg the Tartar tribes,
the mare is made to yield her tnilk^
and the flesh is a favourite £mmL
Nor is the humble ass to be despiaed ;
hard work and scanty fare are almost
his constant lot, and often, alas i hard
blows also ; yet he is a faithful servant
to the poor, and the sick ai^ w^eak
find a medicine in the milk.
Whole nations live by their flocks
and herds ; from the days of Adam^s
first children to the present hour, the
ox, the sheep, and in some countries
MAN AND HIS SERVANTS. 161
the goat, have supplied food, cloth-
ing, and numberless other articles of
the greatest use and convenience to
thousands and tens of thousands. The
ox too is a fellow-labourer with man ;
he draws the plough, treads out the
corn, where that is the custom, and is
sometimes yoked to the waggon or th^
cart ; nay, as there are some tribes of
men who eat their horses, so are there
others who ride upon their cows ; and
what is much stranger, in ancient
Egypt they made a god of a stupid
ox, and in India, to the present day,
they hold the ox to be a sacred animal,
and would as soon think of eating a
child as a piece of beef.
There is another creature which
man feeds and lodges, though it is
neither good to shear nor to milk, which
nobody ever thinks of riding upon, or
setting to draw a coach, and which
p2
162 MAN AND HIS SERVANTS*.
man, with all his ingenuity, could
never persuade to work ; on which
account the poor negro slaves say, that
he is the gentleman of the world — this
is the hog. But he makes amends to
his feeder when he is dead, for then
every part of him may be turned to
some use or other.
And let us not forget the poor cat!
that diligent mouse-hunter, that bold
destroyer of the fierce rat, who was so
prized among the Welch in ancient
times, that he who killed the king's
cat was obliged to pay as much corn
as would completely cover her body
when hung up by the tail. The fond^-
ling purring cat, so pretty and frolic-
some when a kitten ; the pet and play-
thing of good children, but whom rude
and naughty boys. so cruelly frighten^
and hunt, and torture. Surely poor
Pussy is a faithful servant and honestly
MAN AND HIS SERVANTS. 163
earns a little of your milk at breakfast,
and her dinner of bones and scraps.
These are all the principal fout-
footed servants of man^ excepting one,
of whom We will speak another time%
Surely no one can leatn and consider
how much we are obliged to these
poor animals in bo many ways, and
what faithfulness and attachment some
of them show to their toaster when ht
treats them kindly, without being dis-
posed to be merciful towards them
and to love them. We should never
forget that they are in one sense our
fellow-creatures, since the same great
God who made us, made also them ;
and that it is making a wicked return
to him for his goodness towards u£(^
to beat and torment those beings whom
he formed to be happy.
164
DOG AND MAN.
In the account I have given you of
Man and his Servants, it was said that
there was one more of them, whom
we would speak of another time ; and
this is an animal who lives on very
different terms with his master from
any of the rest, unless, in some degree,
the cat. For them he incloses a field
with hedges, or makes a fold, or builds
a shed or a stable ; he ledds them out
to pasture in the meadows, or feeds
them in his farm-yard with hay, or
straw, or turnips, or gives them com
in their manger, or wash in their
trough. But this creature he brings
home to his own house and his chim-
ney corner, feeds him from his table,
and will sometimes let him sleep in
his chamber, or even on his bed.
Others are his slaves, his drudges, but
i
POG AND MAN. 165
iMs creature is his helper, his follower,
liis companio&i end his friend. In
a.11 climates, in all ages, as far as we
kiiow^ k has been the same ; for where^
m the old warld or the new, has xsMl
ht^ found without his faithful dog?
The natives of the West Indi4
Islands had tame dogs when the Sp^<-
biards first went among them ; ai^d
even the poor savages of New Holland
have trained their dogs to follow them*
The hunter had better be without hiit
right haiud than his dog ; and from
the wild Indian who roams the Ame^
rican wilderness bow in faahd, to the
emperor of China, or the great king
of Persia, with their army of followers
driving the affrighted game, and sur^
rounding whole forests with their Qetd
and toils, and from these again, to a
king or nobleman of England galloping
in chace of the stag or the fox ; or the
166 DOG AND MAN.
humbler sportsman who levels his
fowling-piece at the pheasant or the
partridge,— man is every where a
hunter, and every where his hound or
his spaniel is the sharer of his sport,
his fatigues, and his dangers. Who
but he, scents out the timid hare, and
follows her through all her turns and
doublings ? Who but he, pursues and
overtakes, and seizes at last the crafty
fox, or runs down the stately stag, and
tears him as he stands at bay, in spite
of his threatening horns ? He dreads
not the wolf, nor the tusky boar, nor
the huge bear, nor even the lion him-
self, nor the still more terrible tiger.
Let but his master cheer him on, and
he rushes to meet the strongest claws
or th^ fiercest fangs : though torn and
Ibleeding, he returns again and again to
the attack, and lays down his life with-
out a murmur at the feet of his lord.
^
DOG AND MAN. 167
The, shepherd of every land must
have his brave and faithful dog. Who
else shall watch and guard the flock (
as they pasture by day, scaring away
the eagle and the sharp-billed raven,
and bringing them back when they
stray ? . Who else shall guard the fold
by night, waking when his master
sleeps, and by his bark and his bite
drivLg the fox or the hungry wolf
from^their helpless prey ?
The herdsman too must have his
dog to drive the herd. The gardener
must' have him to keep watch about
his tempting fruit-trees ; and the rich
man will scarcely sleep in peace amid
his treasures unless he knows that his
faithful mastiff watches to seize the
robber . if he should attempt to enter.-
The schoolboy must have his terrier
or his poodle for a playfellow. The.
old lady must have her fat, barking
md forsaken, whom none of h
creatures care fbr, if he hai
dog, will stiU have one frienc
him.
The dog is the wisest of i
animals, unless, perhaps, the
may dispute it with him ; ai
not wise for his own interest
or in the care of his youn;
quadrupeds are, in some d^
he is capable of friendship, b<
his own kind and with man, s
seems to love like a fellow-<
and at the same time to fear
DOG AND MAN. 160
by misfortune broken his leg, a suiv
gf^pn, at hi% master's entreaty, set it
fpr him, ^d soon made a perfect cure.
4-^ ^ttle while after, the surgeon, heaiv
j^i^ qn^ d^ an extraordmary scraping
^t his d(K>r, on going to see what it
iDig|[it be, fouxid it was the dog who
](iaji been his patient, bringing in with
hi^L soiother dog of his acquaintance,
wl^o h^d met ^rith the like accident,
find begging him, by actions as plain
as apy words, to cure him also*
In a ^.^Id and mountainous part of
Scp.tland)t & Uttle boy, the son of a poor
labourer, wandered from home and
yvf^ lost. Gr^at search was made
^h^T ^im for several days, but all in
y^fi. His father ai^d mother had al-
xp^t given up th^ hope of finding him,
^bfn s^meboby took notice that at
d^ne; tim^, wUep oatcakes, their only
%)^ hfd been given to all the children
— *»**jr 9 VTA* .
the same, they followed him ;
found that he went and dr
down a steep place into a kii
and there, looking over, they
poor little boy sitting at the
He had slipped down, and c
climb up again ; but the good
found him out, and every day 1
to feed him with his own din
My last story shows, that
has a just sense of his own
and will not put up with ui
usage. One night, a dog h
ifsttar* *»« *» -—
DOG AND MAN. 171
scolding hard at the dog, he went to
bed again. Soon after, the dog barked
again very loud, and then, finding that
nobody attended to him, he came up
stairs to the servant's room door,
scratching and growling furiously.
Again the man \Yent aiid . searched,
but again finding nothing, he flew
into a great passion, beat the dog
cruelly, and shut him up in a shed.
The next morning, however, it was
discovered that some of the outhouses
had been broken into and robbed.
The moment the dog was let out of the
shed, resentful of the ill-treatment he
had received, he rushed out of the
yard, and was never seen by any of
the family more.
I
172
THE CUCK60 AND THE MAGI»IE.
On^£ fine morning in Aprils a young
cnckoo lately returned fix>m her travek
in the South of Europe) pereh^ OH
the bough of a budding elm, to Wittch
a magpie \vho was busily ^tnployed
in building her nest. Th^ magpie
stopped to welcome the traveller; Aen,
going on with her work again, " I
guess, my dear," said she, " that you
may want a lesson in building ; and
if this be the case, you hate done well
to come to me, for, without vanity I may
say, that my nest is the ladmiration
and envy of the whole grove. iThe
story goes, that a gt^at-grandniOther
of mine once attempted to teach the
other birds her art; but the conceited
things, fancying they had learned it
all, flew away before they had seen
her put the roof upon it : and from that
THE CUCKOO AND THE MAGPIE. 173
day to this, they have been obliged
to content themselves with those little,
open, boat-like things, where they sit
shivering with cold and drenched with
rain, whenever the weather happens
to be foul. But you are a friend, and
I will undertake to teach you my secret
of roofing, if you desire to learn it."
" Thank you," replied the cuckoo,
tossing her head somewhat scornfully,
" I am really much obliged by the
oflFer, but you would have a miserable
scholar in me : so far from staying to
learn half the secret, — ^like the pupils
of your worthy great-grandmother, I
i^hould certainly be off as soon as I had
seen you lay the first pair of cross
sticks. In fact, I am afraid I am some-
what of a fine lady ; I like my liberty,
and I should really die of the fatigue
of building a nest, and bringing up a
brood, O that sitting upon eggs !
q2
little gaping throats t No ; '
things I never can submit to."
pray/' said the magpie, '^ 1
you help it? Do you mean
your eggs on the bare groi
leave them to perish ? "
'^ No, I am not quite so hard
as that neither/' returned th
" but I will tell you what I hi
thinking of : there are a vailt n\
sitting hens in all the gro
hedges hereabouts ; — very
pains-taking birds no doubt,—
^^11 i. _
AND THE MAGPIE. 175
are the best of creatilred I know, aiid
nobody bitter acquaintdd with all the
neighbours^ who are mostly strangers
to me ; and therefore I called td invite
ydu to take a fly with me^ and tell me
a little who all the birds are, and which
of them is most fit to be trusted in ^
matter so interesting to the feelings df
a mother."
The magpie, being a noted gossip,
and tery much inclined to speak ill
of her neighbours, could nOt resist So
tempting ah inyitation; and laying
down out of her beak the bundle of
thorns with which she was goiUg to
complete the boasted^covering of her
nest,away she flew ^ith my lady Cuckoo.
The pair first took their stand on
the summit of a tall poplar, whence
they commanded a view of a great
congregation of rooks, settled, time
out of mind, in an avenue of aged
"O©"
my neighbours the rooks," i
magpie, ^^ I must not say n
neighbours, for I have many a s
and cuffing match with thei
what wonder is it if they can
peaceably with me, since tl
always quarrelling with one ai
And what wonder is it if they
with one another, since they i
greatest thieves that fly ? When
of them are building, one is
obliged to stav «nr1 wof-^i* «.i-
AND THE MAGPIE. 177
tfcej^get thfeir living?" " O ! by dig^
Iging for grubs and worms ; you may
observe that the bills of the older oil^
%.i€ quite white with b^tig thrust iatd
the ground." " Sudi kifed of food,"
tejoined the cuckoo^ " wOuld suit my
k^hicken very wbll ; but as they seeta
to be 86 fi^ce^ and so mtich Oa the
alert, I believe I must ilot Ve)iture to
l^y an egg among thim." " No, in-
deed/' i^ied her frieAd, " I Would
not advise you \ and indeed I believe
we had better b* riioviiig off now, for
fear of meeting with some afffont."
A §httrp iqueaking note now dr^w
the attention of the cuekoo. " Ah,
my little friend Wry-neck," cried ifehe,
** you h^ve (arrived here befoi^e me I
see, pray how db all your affairs pros-
pet?"
'' Pretty wIbU^ I thank you," he re-
plied, ^^ thfe atits are beginning to be
1 178
THE CUCKOO
Ibusy ; and thanks to my long s]
Itongue, I can reach them at the
Bof their longest galleries, or at
Ibottom of their deepest chambers,
Inest" Here the little bird stof
Ishort, and began twisting his i
labout from side to side, in a very
land ridiculous manner, at the s
Itime raising his crest.
' What frightens you so mu<
Icried the cuckoo, " I see nothing
part, but a lazy buzzard sit
AND THE MAGPIE. 179
heard now and then from imschievous
boys, when they have been pursuing
us through the woods, and imitating
the call of my mate?" That,". an-
swered^ Mag, ," is the laugh of the
woodpecker. See, there he is, that
green-and-orange bird climbing up
the trunk of. a tree, and balancing
himself with his stiff . awkward tail,
while he bores into the wood with his
beak iii search of insects."
"Poor creature!" exclaimed the
cuckoo, " he works hard for his living :
my young one shall not have him for a
teacher." " And if you did but see him
fly ! " cried the magpie, " up and downj
up and down, quite encumbered with
the weight of his tail. . But pray listen
to that; coo, coo, coo ! there is a silly pair
ofringdoyes in those beeches, who go
on singing that tiresome ditty to one
another all the day long, Then thtey
180 THE CUCKOO
kiss and bill, so fond and so foolish !
And how do you think they feed their
young ones? To be sure they may
well spoil them, for they never have
more th^ two at a tim^ They go
and fill their crops with wheats pease,
or barley — acorns and beech mast
il^erve them in winter, — and then they
give it back to the nestlings ready
chewed."
'^ Enough to choke them," cried the
cuckoo. ^^ No, I will have nothing to
d;Q with such nasty nurses ai^ tbose.
But what a fine mellow vd^ialle ifas
there! Who is it that i^ngs so lend
and so well ? "
*^ The blackbird," reptied the aia^
pie, '^ a s}iy creature^ who hjtiM Ym
nest one does not know vidiere; he is
a fine songster it must be confbwed,
and that glossy black plumage set off
with a yellow bill, is not amiss^^-^^^pity
AND THE MAGPIE. 181
he has such a dingy animal for his
mate ! Ha ! there is the kingfisher
hanging in the air just above the river,
watching for fish." " What beautiful
colours," cried the cuckoo, " what
glossy green ! what rich azure ! what
splendid orange ! Really, in England,
I never saw anything so brilliant."
" I hope, however," interrupted the
malicious magpie, ^^you do not pretend
to admire her shape, with that thick
body, that great spike of a bill, and
that fbolish little stump of a tail, which
looks as if it had passed through the
talons of a hawL At least ycu will
not be tempted to lay your egg in
her nest ; she makes it at the end of
a deep hole, and as she feeds ber young
with fish, and never carries away the
bones or scales, you may judge how
sweet a house she has.
^^The sand-martins are arrived, I see;
R
182 THE CUCKOO
look, those little mouse-coloured birds
ivhoare skimming over the water catch-
ing gnats, and your favourite dainty
the dragon-fly. Would not your little
one fare well among them I wonder ? "
" What kind of nests have they ? "
" Why, very slovenly ones, I must
confess ; only a few goose feathers,
and a little moss strown carelessly at
the bottom of a long burrow which
they scoop out in a sand-bank. No,
I see it will never do ; I do not believe
you could thrust yourself in ; besides,
I may just whisper to you, that all
swallows' nests swarm horribly with
fleas. But suppose we take a turn
among the hedges, they are swarming
with little birds of difierent families,
among whom you may soon make
choice of a foster-mother."
As they fluttered along, the cuckoo
discovered in the fork of an apple-tree.
AND THE MAGPIE. 183
a nest of neater workmanship than any
she had yet observed. The outside
was of moss and lichen, bound toge-
ther with stalks of grasses ; then came
a thick lining of wool and hair, and
within that a still softer one of a kind
of cotton pulled oflf the catkins of the
sallow. Five small white eggs, prettily
spotted with purple, lay in this warm
bed.
" Whose nest is this?" cried she.
" The goldfinch's," was the answer.
" What ; that beautiful little bird with
a ring of crimson feathers round his
white bill, with white cheeks, black
crown, brown body, and so much fine
yellow in his wings ? "
" The same ; a conceited creature
enough."
" Ah ! but they live on thistle seeds,
I know ; dry, hard food, which would
choke either me or my little one. I
wagtail, the hedgesparrow,-
of these might jsuit you." *^
well, I dare say; and froi
twittering and chirping thei
some of them hereabouts."
" Ah, ha !" cried the mag]
into that thick bush,— there,
middle of it, do you see no
" Yes, I do now spy a
how cunningly concealed 1 i
it belong to ? "
" To the redbreast ; thai
AND THE MAGPIE. 185
ingyoursize, you must have been rather
cramped in so small a nest ; and how
did the old bird contrive to find food
for you, and for her own young ones
also?"
" O ! I made those matters easy
enough. As soon as I found that I
wanted more room, I watched my op-
portunity, and pushed the little robins
over the edge of the nest ; — if they
broke their necks in the fall, how could
I help that? My foster-mother cer
tainly never suspected me of the trick,
for she was just as fond of me as a
real mother, and went on feeding me
after I had grown twice as big as her-
self. No doubt my young one will
follow my example, and its nurse will
be vastly proud of having reared so
fine a nestling."
So saying, the cuckoo flew upon
the nest, and was about to drop her
r2
|186 THK CUCKOO AND THE MACP
y ; but before she had complt
hhis act of miscliief, a weasel wlio '.
Krept unobserved to the spot and ■
Dying in wait, seized her suddenly
Ithe neck, gave her a fatal bite, ;
|had soon sucked all the blood ou
uier body. The magpie made a hi
iflight to tlic top of a tall tree, with
■the least endeavour to save her 6
Ifriend.
" After all," said she to herself, "
i rightly served,- — how monstrous
BARNEVELDT. 187
peck, when she could find them strag^
gling away from the hen. The farmer
had long watched her proceedings, and
was resolved to make an example of
ier: ^cordingly, he no sooner saw
her perched on the end of a barn,
peeping about, and preparing to drop
down on the poultry below, than reach-
ing his gun, and taking good aim, he
brought her dead to the ground.
Her body was nailed up against the
barn-door, among owls and hawks;
and instead of lamenting her fate, her
feathered acquaintance rejoiced, one
and all, in their deliverance from so
malicious and quarrelsome a neigh-
bour.
BARNEVELDT.
Nearly two hundred and fifty years
ago, the Seven United Provinces, — or
the Second of Spain for thei
but he was a cruel tyrant, and
to make them Roman Cath<
force, when they were Protes
their hearts ; so they rebelled
him ; and with some assistan
the French, and more from o
Queen Elizabeth, after a vc
struggle of many years, they c
armies entirely out of the cour
made a government of the
which was a republic, that is a
ment without a king.
BARNEVELDT. 189
these quarrels were about religion, for
they had two different sects among
them ; but the disputes were rendered
more violent by the ambition of Mau-
rice prince of Orange, who had been
their general in part of their wars
-against the Spaniards, and hoped by
assisting one of the sects to destroy the
other, to get himself made king.
• There was at this time among them
jsl very wise and good man named
Bameveldt, who had borne high offices
in his own country, besides being often
ambassador both in France and Eng-
land, and was exceedingly, revered
both at home and abroad. But be-
cause Barneveldt was so wise and so
good, and so much looked up to, Mau-
rice knew that he could not make
himself king whilst he and some ot
his friends, who did not wish to have
a king, were alive and in power and
Bameveldt and several othe
put in prison on a charge o
disturbances in the country,
veldt was brought to trial ;
ticular enemies were so unji
act as his judges, and with \
proof against him, they foi
guilty and condemned him t
Prince Maurice was much
by many great persons, and
some of his own relations, t
him ; but he unfeelingly ref
less the family of Barneveli
T-!- J
BARNEVELDT. 191
pected a sentence of death he received
it with composure, wrote a farewell
letter to his wife, and then conversed
with a clergyman who came to visit
him. He also wrote a letter to prince
Maurice, begging his forgiveness if he
had given him just cause of offence,
and asking some things for his chil-
dren, but nothing for himself; and
the prince would grant him no mercy
since he was too high-minded to sub-
mit himself to him.
On going to his death, he was at
first troubled a little, and raising his
eyes to heaven, he cried, " O God,
what is man ! " But then, after pray-
ing, he grew quite calm, and declaring
his innocence, he laid his head meekly
on the block, and it was cut off at one
blow.
The people of Holland soon became
sensible of the great cruelty and in-
they ever aiier nuuuuicvi u^a
aa one of the best of men ai
lovers of his country ; and
Maurice never got over the i
and disgrace of having been th
causer of his death.
Some time after, two sons
neveldt, who had. held gret
of which Maurice had depriv
were moved by anger and
of revenge to lay a plot witi
others to take away the
life. This plot was discovc
most engaged in it suffei
GR0TIU5. 19S
Maurice and begged his life. He told
her, he was surprised at such an action
in her, who had refused to beg the
life of her husband. She nobly replied;
*f I did not ask a pardon for my hus-
band, because he was innocent ; I ask
one lor my son, because he is guilty."
But Maurice had a hard heart, and
he was put to death.
GROTIUS.
I TOLD you that several of Bameveldt's
friends were sent to prison with him,
under the same unjust accusation.
Among these was Grotius, an excellent
man, and one of the very greatest
scholars and brightest geniuses of his
age; and you shall now hear what
became of him. He was also tried in
an unfair and unlawful manner, but
instead of being condemned to die, he
15llt to IjrrOllUS u was iiut
a punishment, because he hac
and noble-minded wife, who g
to be shut up in prison with I
she might comfort him with 1
pany and keep up his spirits,
this, as he was so learned a
had a constant resource in his
and he wrote in prison som
most famous works ; amongst
he wrote a book on the laws
land, by which he showed the
wished to be useful to his cou:
notwithstanding their hard t
GROTIUS. 196
his affectionate wife could not bear
that he should remain a prisoner al-
ways, and at last she thought of a
scheme for his deliverance. He was
allowed to borrow books of his friends,
which he afterwards returned; sending
them to the neighbouring town of
Gorcum in a chest, which also carried
his linen to wash. At first, his guards
used regularly to examine this chest
whenever it went out; but after a
while, never having found any thing
wrong in it, they grew more careless :
this his wife observed, and she then
persuaded him to try whether he could
not contrive to bear to be shut up in
it for a good while together, after holes
had been bored in it to let in the air ;
and he found that he could. Next,
choosing a time when the governor
of the castle was away, she told his
wife that she was going to send off a
Il96 GROTIUS.
Igreat load of books ; and that she
Iglad of it, for her husband had ir
■himself ill by studying so hard. T
■shepacked Grotius himself in thecli
land two soldiers came and carrie
Idown the ladder, but they found i
Iheavy, that one of them said, in a 1
lof joke, that there must be an A
Inian in it ; and he went and told
Igovernor's wife of its unusual weij
she, trusting to what Grot
e had told her, would not alio
GROTIUS, 197
another boat, which conveyed him
safely out of the country*
In the mean time, his wife contrived
to conceal his escape by pretending
that he was ill in bed, till she learned
that he was out of reach of danger ; then
she confessed the whole affair. The
governor, in a rage, committed her to
close confinement ; but she presented
a petition to the Dutch States General,
or parliament, for her release, and
though there were a few mean-spirited
people who wanted to keep her still
in prison, all the rest were ashamed
to punish a woman for having acted
like a good and faithful wife ; so they
set her at liberty, and she followed
her husband to France, where he had
taken refuge.
s2
198
MAN AND BIRDS.
I HAVE told you already by what
•means man has subdued the beasts of
the field, and made excellent servants
of many of them ; now let us consider
what he has been able to do with the
fowls of the air, who seem as if they
had only to spread their wings and
soar away, to be as free from his do-
minion as the free air itself. We shall
find, however, that by his skill and
cunning he has contrived to make
even these wild and beautiful creatures
tributary to him. He feeds- on their
flesh and their eggs, he reposes, soft
warm upon their down, he adorns
himself with their graceful plumes and
solaces himself with their music, and
some of them he has even taught to
do him service.
Before the invention of balloons,
MAN AI^D BIRDS. 199
there was once aa ingenious person
who had a scheme of harnessing a
team of wild geese to carry him up to
the clouds in a flying chariot ; but,
somehow, he could never get his plan
to answer ; aild though the old poets
assure us that Venus, the goddess of
beauty, was accustomed to sail through
the air in a car drawn either by doves
or by sparrows, it does not appear that
among mortals birds have ever yet
been made animals of draught. Nei-
*tiierhave I ever heard of a man's put-
ting a saddle on the back of an ostrich,
though the creature seems strong
enough to bear it, and it is besides
so swift, partly by the help of its wings,
which it flutters as it runs, that the
best horseman can scarcely keep pace
with it.
There is a bird however, which,
though unable to carry men from
d
AA *% AM ....-
even hundreds of miles off, to flj
mediately back again, over sea
land, and by a wonderful instin
always finds the nearest way. I
having observed this, will somef
tie a letter under the wing of a pi
and then let it loose ; and by
means news has been carried thr
the air faster than ship can s£
horse can gallop, and sometin
places where neither ship nor ]
man could gain admittance,
a town has been so closely be.'
-at~^^ TvioccAnorpr could
MAN AND BIRDS. 201
in the very market-place, and brought
to the starving inhabitants the glad
tidings of friends marching to their
relief, and. encouraged them to hold
but bravely yet a little longer.
The poultry in our farm-yards may
be reckoned tame ; they know their
feeder, and even if they wander abroad
in the day, they always come home to
roost in the evening; but, like th^
hog, they are oiily kept to be eaten>
and are of little or no use to thei^
master while living, except by laying
eggs. Yet the cock has been called
the shepherd's clock, because he al-
ways wakes and begins to crow as
soon as ever the dawn appears ; and
the goose is still more watchful than
the dog, and would serve as well for
a- sentinel: you may read that the city
of Rome was once saved by its c ackling,
when the enemy had nearly climbed
2 MAN AND BIRDS.
i walls by night, and nobody hei
;m but the wakeful goose. 1
komans, out of gratitude, paid gi
ispect to geese ever after.
In South America there is a b
Balled the agamy, something lik<
large fowl, but with much longer le
phich becomes tame almost as s(
i it is caught, and attaches itself
pan as faithfully as the dog itsi
Like the dog also, this bird will
t with the sheep, quite of its o
MAN AND BIRDS. 203
nerally choose some one of the family
for its master and friend. It runs up
to him the moment he appears, dances
round him as he walks, follows him
every where, and will pine if it is kept
away from him. Indeed I have read
of one which died of grief on being
forsaken by a gentleman to whom it
had attached itself.
The different kinds of hawks, or
falcons, have been trained by man to
assist him in the chace, and a good
hawk has often been prized at a great
sum of money.
The art of hawking was probably
first invented among the natives of the
wide plains of Tartary, which are ex-
cellently suited for the sport ; and it is
still practised by the emperors of China,
the kings of Persia, and other Eastern
monarchs in their great hunting par-^
ties. Some ages ago, it was the fa-
204 MAN AND BIRDS.
vourite amusement of all the nations
of Europe. Nobody was reckoned a
gentleman who did not know how to
fly his hawk well, and a prince or a
lord was scarcely ever to be seen with-
out a hawk on his fist ; even ladies
carried the smaller kinds as a mark ot
their rank; for the common people
were not allowed to keep them.
These birds were either taken in the
nest, or caught when full grown, and
taught with a great deal of pains to
obey their master, and to fly at such
game as he pleased.
The hawk was carried to the field
with a hood over its eyes, but as soon
as a partridge, a pigeon, a heron, or
any other proper kind of game ap-
peared in sight his eyes were unco-
vered, and he was thrown off* the fist
into the air. He went soaring up-
wards, upwards, quite out of sight
MAN AND BIRDS. 205
sometimes, to pounce down with the
more force upon his prey, which, on
its part, tried to escape by the swift-
ness of its flight. Meantime, the fal-
coner, mounted on a fleet horse, gal-
loped after them full-speed, looking
upwards all the while : at last the
hawk, with his cruel beak, would strike
his prey in mid air, and bring it flut^
tering and bleeding to the ground.
The spirit and courage of these birds
is so great, that they will attack any
thing, and sometimes they were trained
to assist in the chace of the wolf or the
wild boar ; they always flew at the
head of the beast and pecked at his
eyes, buffeting him at the same time
with their wings ; and when he was
thus blinded, the hunters came up
and easily dispatched him with their
spears^
The Chinese keep tame pelicans to '
T
i
fasten an iron collar, so iignt
can just dwallow a little fish,
a great one ; the small ones
lowed for his labour, but th
ones, which stick in his thi
master seizes for his share.
The eagle, which you kno
king of birds, as the lion is o
was found too large and too
be trained to the sport like tl
tribe ; but in the countries ai
Alps and other high mountai
these birds chiefly frequent,
trived to make advantage
^f\r\
MAN AND BIRDS. 207
wings when spread, reach almost twice
as far as a man can stretch his arms,
and are capable of striking a terrible
blow ; its hooked beak is so large and
strong, that with a single stroke it will
split the skull of a lamb, a kid, or a
fawn, which it will afterwards clutch
in its long thick talons and carry off
through the air with ease ; nay, it is even
said to have sometimes flown away with
a child of ten years old. It makes its
home among the rocks on the summit
of lofty mountains ; and its sight is so
piercing, that as it glances its eyes all
around it from its lofty station, nothing
which stirs below can escape it ; not
the grey pigeon flitting among the
thick branches, nor the timid hare as
she steals forth to feed, nor the brown
rabbit sporting on the heath ; — down it
pounces in an instant, and with so
of thick sticks, or poies, idiu u«
the ledges of a rock or the a
some large tree, and covered \
thick bed of heath or rushes. Ith
only one or two young ones at s
and you will think they are w*
when I tell you that in an ejnre^
many years ago in the Peak of
shire, though there was but one
a lamb, a hare, and three youn^
cocks, were found lying by if
killed for dinner.
A French gentleman, wh
aK/%va two hundred years ago,
MAX AND BIRDS. 209
on the borders of France and Spain,
were handsomely entertained on their
way at the house of a nobleman in a
woody and mountainous region called
the Gevaudan. On sitting down to
table, they were surprised to observe
that all the game and wild fowl of
different kinds set before them wanted
either a leg, a wing, the head, or some
other part. The nobleman, seeing
that they remarked it, told them that
he hoped they would excuse this sin-
gularity, as he had a strange fellow of
a steward who always would insist on
taking a taste of every thing which he
had provided, before he served it up
to his master's table. The visitors
stared very much at this ; but at last
their entertainer told them, that hia
steward or provider was an eagle, and
that all the choicest dishes of his feast
t2
0,\^\^^
ing stein»,
And thus by degrt c
a tuft of grass ; or a i ^*
ing on the ground ; or a ;
a bush^ with a woody sl,e:/
crossing sprays; or vhfi a
with a thick, solid tru:)Iv < asc
bark, and mighty bn:M< hrs
out from it, this wa; : ' t
smaller boughs sho - , I
branches; and little ^s <
out from them again . .nd t
of buds and green lea -: cow
whole as with a leafy
'»>r»o l^
PLANTS. 211
best ftnd ddntiest of every thing to
theif young ones ; and instead of com-
plaining of their thefts, he, for his
party was glad to live in their neigh-*
bourhood, as they paid him such a
handsome rent in game and wild fowL
PLANTS
The seed, when it is ripe, drops from
the plant to the earth ; then the rain
falling upon it, or some bird or beast
treading on it> or some worm crawling
over it, beats it down into the soft mold)
which covers it, and thus it lies all winter
safe and snug. When spring comes,
with its warm showers and bright stin-
shine, the seed begins to grow; it shooti
downwards two or three Hula slender
threads ; which are its rodts^ and which
go on growing as ike pl^nt grows ; it
^hment from the sui^ ^
om the light dry sand ; others fron
ae chalky or limestone. Some love
.he marsh, others the borders of the
running stream, others the sea-beach \
some bask in the sunny mead^ others
hide themselves deep in the shad^
dell ; some climb the windy mountain
and strike down their roots among th
clefts of the hard dry rock.
In the dismal countries of the ve
furthest North, where the earth
bound with frost and covered with
* ^proetual snow, the only ph
PLANTS. 215
little miserable herbs. Here neither
bird nor beast which feeds on vege-
tables can subsist, and even man finds
it difficult to support himself.
A very little more to the Souths
however, in Lapland and the North of
Russia, nature has strown over the
earth a kind of white lichen, or moss,
which feeds the hardy reindeer, who
scrapes away the snow with his hoofs
to find it.
Woods of birch appear next, and
those vast forests of pine and fir which
supply us with masts of ships and with
most of the deal which we use for such
a variety of purposes ; and here the
stag has leaves and young shoots on
which to brouse, and the sheep and
the ox find pasture on the herbage
which springs up on the sunny side of
the hill, or in the sheltered valley.
Then come the countries where corn
hemp tor corua^c o^v. .^.
and flax for the finer linen,
this we come to the lands of b
aod wheat, and of rich grassy
^ows sprinkled with daisies and c
foots and the sweet-smelling clovi
the lands too, of the oak, the asl
beech, the elm, the lime am
poplar ; where the currant and {
berry are natives ; where the on
^e fair with the apple, the pea
the cherry; and where the ta
flaunts from its pole in elegant fe
I am sure you know that we ha
-■ •«»»i«» yxin
PLANTS. 217
of France, in Holland, in part of Ger-
many, in Flanders, and also in Poland
and the. South of Russia.
After these, come what we call the
countries of the South ; where the rich
clusters of the vintage crown the hills ;
where the myrtle and the orange scent
the air; where the tall maize is reaped,
and the wet rice-field is tilled ; where
the mild oil is pressed from the fruit
of the olive ; where the chesnut is eaten
as bread; where the peach and the
almond, the fig and the pomegranate
abound ; where the leaves of the mul-
berry yield food for the silkworm, and
where the fairest shrubs and flowers
of our gardens, the lilac, the labur-
num, the syringa and the jessamine,
the jonquil and narcissus, the sweet
pea and the lily, bloom wild in the
thickets and shed their perfume over
the meadows. Such are the Southern
u
)
218 PLANTS.
province9 of France ; Spain and Por-
^gal ; the sunny banks of the Danube,
fair Italy, and lovely Greece.
iVnd all Aese are but a very £bw,
>a sinall sample, Ijjke a handful taken
^p from among the sands of the sear
shore, of the trees, and shrubs, and
herbs, which the bountiful hand ik
the great ai^d ^Qod God has scattered
over our E^urope ; one quarter only,
and that by fsx the smallest, of this
, rich and fruitful globe. No man can
know all the plants on the face of the
earth, so va^t is their multitude
'* beyond tbe skill
Of botanist to number up their tribes."
But not to know, at least, those
which give us shade or shelter, fruit to
refresh us or food to nourish us, medi.
cines to restore our health, or beautiful
and fragrant blossoms to delight W9
PLANTS. 219
and adorn our dwellings — not to learn
thus much : — ^not to observe and exa
mine their curious structure j not to
admire them ; not to wonder at their
infinite variety and beauty, at their
delightfulness and their innumerable
uses both to man and to all the tribes
of living creatures on the earth, is to
be stupid, and insensible, and thank-
less to Him who formed by his al-
mighty word both them and us^
THE END.
Frioted by Richard Taylor,
2Kcd lion Coart» Fleet Street
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